


The Goddess and the Bull

by Gretccheen



Series: High School Love Affairs [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, And a good friend like wowza, Angst, Artist!Tavros, Becoming Queer Platonic Partners, Bullying, Cat Puns, Chubby Aradia, F/F, F/M, Fish Puns, Fluff, Getting Together, Getting Together Platonically, Getting to Know Each Other, Goth!Aradia Megido, Humanstuck, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Implied/Referenced Abusive Relationship, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kanaya is a mom, Mutual Pining, Nepeta and Feferi totally ship it, POV Alternating, POV Second Person, Past Relationship(s), Pesterlog(s) (Homestuck), Platonic Relationships, Potentially out of character, Protective!Feferi, Queerplatonic Relationships, Rufioh Is Accomodating And Good And I Will Fight You About It, Rufioh is a concerned brother, Tavros Nitram/Vriska Serket - Freeform, Tavros iS A PURE BEAN, Tavros thinks everyone loves Aradia, The Alphas are all freshmen, The Betas are Seniors, Unrealistic representation of siblings, Vriska is a hoe, eventual mutual pining, they do not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-03-12 10:05:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 33,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13545099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gretccheen/pseuds/Gretccheen
Summary: You name is Tavros Nitram and you are one hundred and ten percent in love with Aradia Megido who just so happens to be loved by the entire school. You don't stand a chance.Your name is Aradia Megido and nearly all the world hates you, save for your best friend and the boy who you met at a party. You still aren't sure why he likes you, but you're glad he does.Follow the story of two (eventually) star-crossed lovers now with more puns, too many references to the original comic, and more second person than you'd ever wanted to see in your entire life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I have been inspired to write a fic for one of my favorite ships, Aradia and Tavros! This particular story will span a good portion (if not all) of their high school years. This is the first work in a series that will be coming out slowly but surely, and will be updated as soon as I am able! I hope you all enjoy this story, because I put a lot of love and time into it! [Now available on Fanfiction.net as well]

Your name is Tavros Nitram, and you are in love with a goddess. 

Well, she isn't  _technically_ a goddess, but she's the closest thing to one. No one could have skin that pale and be human, right? Well, except for your friend Kanaya, but you are almost 100% that she is a vampire, and not a human being who simply does not get enough sun and has been blessed (cursed?) with fair skin. Certainly not. Back to the point. She cannot be human. Even her name was beautiful. Aradia Megido. Just thinking about it makes you flush like some of the girls do when your older brother passes them. Oh yes, do you have it bad for Aradia Megido. And you aren't alone. In your fifteen years of life never have you seen an entire crowd of hormonal, brutish teenagers clear a path as quickly as you've seen them do for her. With wide eyes they would whisper behind their hands, gasping at the way her hips would sway as she walked down the hallway, smiling with a warmth that would rival the sun as she spoke animatedly with your school's resident princess, Feferi Peixes. The two were about as similar as a ram and a fish; if Feferi was the Sun, then Aradia was the moon. Where Feferi was bright and bubbly, Aradia was mysterious and moody. Aradia was only seen at school events arm in arm with her friend, and even then she hardly looked enthusiastic to be there (you could spend hours daydreaming about the way her face looked when she was sulking moodily in one corner of the bleachers). Feferi was on the both the swimming and diving teams, she managed volleyball team, was president of the freshman class in the student council, and often spent her time helping at the local animal shelter.

Even the way they looked was one big contradiction. Feferi dressed on the verge of garish, countless gold bracelets clinking on her arms with every movement; short skirts in bright blues and greens worn with fuchsia tops that bared her stomach and shoulders in a way that would certainly be considered breaking the dress code if it wasn't for her mother's influence on the town. There wasn't a person here who didn't know her mother's name, and it clearly showed in how much she and her sister were able to get away. The silver spoon in their mouth certainly hadn't left--if anything, it had only gotten bigger. Her skin was tanned and freckled by the sun, her hair a constant whirlwind with all her time spent in the pool. She was lean, toned, and could probably beat anyone in a fight, if she were the sort to get into them. Aradia, on the other hand, wore black like it was going out of style, favoring burgundy if color was deemed necessary. Her skirts were long, and if she  _did_ wear pants (your heart skips a beat at the very thought) they sat high on her waist and clung to her legs, netting often showing through the holes in the knees. She preferred shirts with belled sleeves and lace on the collar. Where Feferi showed skin, Aradia hid it.

Her hair created a dark curtain around her entire being, and if she wore it up it was always done in styles so intricate it made your head spin. You tried to draw her, sometimes, but you were never able to capture the soft curves of her body and round face. And God, had you tried. You wonder if it's because you've never gotten close enough to see properly; the only chances you got to see her were when you managed to squeeze between the mass surrounding her throughout her descent through the hallways. It was enough, though, to send your heart into a panic and make your throat tighten so much you wondered how you had ever been able to breath knowing that she even  _existed_ , let alone be in a place where you could see her. You have hope, though, that this incoming school year would give you the chance the actually see her. Maybe even talk to her. If you can even wrack up the nerve to approach her, that is. Your brother had been helping, even going so far as to take you out with his friends so you could become more comfortable around other people. You loved him for it, admired him more than you already did, and sometimes you wonder why he even bothered with you. Rufioh Nitram was a living wet dream, confident and sexy and everything you wanted to be. Next to him, you were nothing. A waste of space, barely worth the time he gave you. And you tried, God, did you try and earn it. You went to his parties, you spoke to his friends (when they spoke to you first, of course), you showed him your art when he asked now instead of hiding it. 

"Tavros, you there buddy?" You are snapped out of your musing by a gentle tapping on your forehead.

"Sorry Rufioh," you stutter, looking up apologetically. 

"It's alright. What you drawin' there, buddy?" Rufioh stoops down to get a better look at your sketchbook, and you feel your face warm as you hold it out so he can see it better. "Ah, that Megido girl, huh?" You let out a flustered groan and he laughs good-naturedly, ruffling your hair before straightening himself. "You know, that doll she hangs out with is hosting a party tonight. You're more than welcome to tag along, if you'd like?" You can hear the unspoken plea in his words.  _Tavros, you're never going to get her if you stay inside and play Pokémon all day._ "I'd be there the whole time. All you'd have to do is text me and I'll come find you and we'd go home, okay?" You look up at him, unsure which you fear more--actually going out, or disappointing him. You settle on the former, and grin weakly at him. It's totally worth it, because he beams at you before stepping back enough to allow you to stand up. "Sorry I took so long, coach decided it was the perfect time to tell us his life story, in full detail." He reaches out a hand to steady you when your legs shake, the concern on his face making your heart melt. God, you didn't deserve a brother like him. "I'm fine," you whisper, before trying again with a bit more confidence. "I'm fine. My legs just fell asleep, is all." Rufioh seems to relax a little, but still keeps a hand on your shoulders as you begin walking. "Was the rest of practice okay?"

"Yeah, it was pretty average. Horuss came and watched. It was a little embarrassing, to be honest." Rufioh rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, face flushed. "It was sweet of him, though."

"Is he going tonight?" You perk up a little at the thought. Horuss was Rufioh's boyfriend, and while his younger brother was very intimidating (you shudder just thinking about him), Horuss was a lot easier to talk to. Maybe because he was around so much? If all else failed, you could probably talk to Horuss (when your brother wasn't trying to devour his face, that is). Rufioh hummed in thought before answering, "Yeah, he's coming along. He'll meet us there, though." You sigh in relief, and he raises an eyebrow but doesn't press, gently nudging you towards the door. "You can get lost in that head of yours when we get in the car, alright." He lets go of your shoulder and picks up his pace, causing you to grin and chase after him. For all his popularity, your brother could be a real kid sometimes. Not that you minded. If anything, it made it easier to talk to him. If he was the cool, confident person people made him out to be, you might never speak with him. No, you liked this Rufioh much better. He waited for you at the doors of school, grinning at you like someone he adored (Rufioh said he loved you a lot, would write notes with cute doodles and stick them in your sketchbook as a reminder) and you must have made a funny expression because he laughs, reaching out to tousle your hair before he began leading you through the parking lot. It was practically empty, only the cars of football players left, and it wasn't hard to find your brother's truck, but he acts as if it's an adventure, quietly narrating your journey in the crisp fall air like a nature documentary. And you laugh, because he's doing it to make you happy, and when you look his smile is so wide you worry that it hurts. 

"Tavros?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I'm really glad you're coming tonight." Your eyes widen at that, and you're so shocked that you actually stopped getting into the truck. Rufioh doesn't look at you, staring holes into the steering wheel. "God, this is going to sound so stupid, but I've always wanted to take you to one of these. It's so dumb, really, but I just. I worry about you, Tavros, and I worry about what's going to happen to you when I'm going to college. I just want to make sure you've got someone who will take care of you when I'm gone. And I know that's a long time from now, and that you're strong enough to handle yourself, but you're my little brother and fuck," Your eyes widen at that. Rufioh never swear unless he's really upset, and your fingers tighten on the door in response. "You're my little brother, Tavros. You're all the family I've got." He finally turns to look at you, and your heart squeezes so tight you're worried it will stop beating when you notice how wet his eyes are. "I just love you a whole bunch, you know?" You don't know. You honestly, truly, do not know how much your brother loves you. That's why he leaves notes, that's why he's getting so emotional over taking you to a high school party. You try to speak but your throat is too tight, but he seems to understand because he grins suddenly. "Coming?"

\----

Your name is Aradia Megido, and almost all the world hates you. 

This is not an understatement, nor is an exaggeration. From the moment you moved to this small town, you had all eyes on you. For better or worse. Luckily for you, you had at least one friend, and she was enough to keep you from serious injury. And even if some harm had come to you because of the small-minded inhabitants of this town, you know their would be hell to pay. Because Feferi Peixes would kill a man the moment she learnt they had hurt one of her (surprisingly few) friends. And if the impending doom brought by her rage was not intimidating enough, then it was her mother and sister who scared them off. Meenah Peixes picked more fights than anyone the school district (which was saying something, because there were schools in some of the sketchiest, roughest neighborhoods) and she never, ever got caught. And if she did, she only needed to bat her eyelashes and mention her mother's name to get off scot free. Her mother was a powerful business tycoon, and she had more influence than most governing bodies had over their countries. The Peixes family was powerful, intimidating, and quite possibly the only reason you were surviving in this school.

Your older sister, Damara, certainly didn't help things. With her crude language, constant smoking throughout the school, and her playing of the "I am a foreigner and cannot speak the language" card, she caused nothing but problems and ruined most attempts at making any friends. Or getting along with your teachers. Because everyone and their brother had heard of Damara Megido, and, by extension, you. It certainly didn't bother you as much as it had in the past (going to nearly five different schools within the past two years does that) but it still hurts. You're thankful that this time you weren't alone in this whole mess. Sure, you had people you associated with at your other schools (namely a boy named Dave and his half-sister Rose) but they never were as close as you were Feferi. She was the light at the end of a very dark, very lonely tunnel. Speaking of Feferi...

"Araydia," the other girl whined, dragging out the vowel sounds for as long as she could before taking a gasping breath. "You're going to come tonight, aren't you?" You don't even need to look at her to know she's making puppy eyes, bottom lip stuck out in an adorable pout. Instead you pointedly study one burgundy painted nail (the same nail, in fact, that you had studied when Feferi had brought this up mere moments ago). "Please? It'll be so boring with you." 

"I'll do nothing but sit there and be moody," you retort, but your resolve is already crumbling.

"Please," she snatches your hand in both of her, effectively drawing your full attention to her. "Pretty please? You can stay the night and we can watch Indiana Jones if you want and..."

"Alright," you cut her off gently, smiling softly when she squeals in delight. "I'll come. Promise you won't do anything too crazy?" Feferi hums, releasing your hand. "Feferi?"

"I can't promise that, Araydia," she giggles. "It's Meenah's party, not mine. There's going to be a lot of seniors. Nepeta said she'd come, though!"

"So, if all else fails, you get to sit and fawn over your crush while I sigh at your lack of courage to ask her out on a proper date?" Feferi flushes prettily, and in her embarrassment throws her arms around you and buries her face in your chest.

"You're so marine, Araydia," she whines, and you lightly pat the top of her head, feeling awkward. A few of the student council members are looking at you (Feferi insisted that you eat lunch with them so you "wouldn't be by yourself, you killifish") like you've committed some unforgivable sin. Perhaps to them you had. You lean forward so you won't be heard by anyone else in the room, knowing you must look ridiculous whispering into the mass of Feferi's curls. "Would you feel better if I let you pick out my outfit?"

"Yes!" Feferi startles you with how fast she pops up, nearly hitting your chin in the process. She's smiling, though, and you can't help but smile back. Someone clears their throat and she turns to them, annoyance barely hidden on her face. "If you don't mind, Miss Peixes, we would like to return to our meeting." 

"Go on," you murmur, untangling her hands from where they had settled on your thighs. "Don't worry about me."

"Okay," she glances at you before turning her attention back to the other student council members. You block out whatever it is they're saying by turning your attention back to your lunch. Carefully you move some of the small tuna wraps to the side (Feferi would ask for them regardless) and pop a grape in your mouth. One of the student's is watching you, brows furrowed like he's looking at a math problem that he doesn't understand. It makes you uncomfortable, and you shift nervously, rolling another grape between your fingers to fight the urge to bring them to your mouth. Taking a steadying breath, you pointedly meet his judgmental gaze with a cold one of your own. This causes him to falter, and he nervously turns his attention to the papers in front of him. You see Feferi's lips curl in an artificially sweet smile, and you almost feel sorry for the boy when she goes, "So, Mr. Zahhak, what do you think?" The boy splutters, completely flustered by her intense gaze, and you can already see beads of sweat appearing on your forehead. It makes you want to laugh, but you know that would not go over well, so you thoughtfully place another grape in your mouth and wait. He stutters out the beginnings of a few sentences, and then his gaze turns to you, almost as if he were asking for help. It makes you grin wickedly, and you tap your fingers impatiently on the table. It is the only noise you have made thus far, the only indicator that you were paying any attention at all, and this must have added some pressure to him, because he licks his lips and fumbles with the papers. 

"Well?" Feferi urges, and she begins to rest her chin in the palm of her hand. 

"I believe that you are right in saying the underclassmen should participate more in school events," he states lamely, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

"And what about leading them? Doing campaigns of our own?" Feferi presses, straightening her posture. "What about doing more to help the students who can't afford their supplies? Leading study groups for those who are struggling in their classes? As members of the student council, do you think we should be doing more to start programs like these?" Your heart fills with pride as Feferi grows more and more passionate with every word she says, even going so far as to stand to better get her point across. She had always been a humanitarian, heart full of love for each and every thing that walked across this Earth. You still get overwhelmed when she directs that love and affection towards you. No one had ever stood up for you like this, so passionate and bold, willing to risk everything for you. Even if she wasn't saying your name, or even really  _implying_ that she was talking about this because of you, you knew that she did it for you. She knew you like the back of her hand, knew every incredibly shitty detail about your life, and still she stayed and fought battles for you that she never should have to. "As the student council, we should be supporting all students who walk through these halls. I will not tolerate anything less. If you aren't willing to agree to this, then you can resign right now." 

The boy pales, hands gripping the table so tight you're worried it will shatter. The other members are looking between the two, and a few even look in your direction. The muscles in his neck flex, and you can almost hear his teeth grinding together with how tightly he's clenched his jaw. It makes you feel powerful, in a way, despite the shame curling in your chest because you can't even defend yourself, but Feferi looks like the cat who caught the canary and you wouldn't dare deny her the feeling of pleasure she got when defending you. The boy takes a steadying breath, though it appears to do little to actually calm him down. "Yes, Miss Peixes, I...understand." He speaks slowly, beads of sweat trailing down his sharp jawline and hands deathly white against the dark wood of the table. Feferi smiles, looking at him like he was one of the dogs who had performed a trick correctly at the animal shelter. It's condescending, in a way, but you swear there is color filling his cheeks in a way that makes him look like he's pleased by an unspoken praise given to him by the girl. It makes your blood boil, although you aren't entirely sure why, and your nails scratch against the table irritably. Feferi glances back at you, concern filling her face for but a moment before she slowly sits down. "I'm glad you understand. Now, shall we continue?" There are murmurs amongst the other members, and a few steadying breaths, and the boy looks at you, studying you intently. You straighten your shoulders, because you'll be damned if you let Feferi's efforts go to waste. You will not be bothered by this boy, and will not let him affect you. Daring him to try and challenge Feferi's unspoken threats you meet his intense gaze head on. He looks down after a moment, chewing on his lower lip, and part of you screams at this triumph, if you can even call it that. 

\---

"Can I bring my sketchbook with me?" Rufioh looks up from DS, considering you for a moment. 

"You might have to explain to people what you're doing, and then you might have to show them your art. Would you be okay with that?" Rufioh says it slowly, as if he's worried that the very words will startle you. They do, a little bit, but you take a steadying breath. You've been working on this. If you don't want to show your art, you can just say no, right? "I'll be okay," your voice remains steady, surprising the both of you. Rufioh smiles proudly at you, and he hums his assent. "If you think you can handle it, then go ahead." You wriggle happily from your seat on the couch, and he shakes his head before returning to his game. Looking through your pencils for a moment, you grab one covered in orange tape and return to your drawing. 

Unsurprisingly it was a drawing of Aradia Megido. You had been studying Ancient Greece in English, and had been inspired by the legends of gods and goddess to draw some of your own. You already had done drawings of Feferi and Kanaya as the goddesses of the sea and beauty, respectively. Now, you were working on perhaps your biggest piece of this set you've done so far. Inspired by her dark and somewhat intimidating aesthetic, you've decided to draw her as the goddess of death. But you weren't settling for dark and depressing. Oh no, Aradia was the goddess of death, and she was anything but upset by it. In your drawing, she is elegantly perched upon a throne of bones, smiling haughtily as she extends one hand. Her nails are long, almost claw like, and amongst her glorious curls are a pair of horns, curving elegantly inward. She looks young, too young to be Queen of Hell, but it somehow suits her. Currently you're trying to figure out how to color her hair so it is the proper shade of black. You almost want to go searching for a burgundy colored pencil and use that as a highlight instead of the whites and greys you had been using previously. 

"You sure are thinking hard over there, Tavros. I can see the smoke." Rufioh teases lightly, and you can feel the heat creeping along the back of your neck. "What're you drawing now, buddy?"

"Aradia," you mumble, and your older brother laughs.

"Of course. You could show her your drawings tonight?" You violently shake your head, bringing your sketchbook close to your chest. 

"No way," you stammer, "they aren't that good, anyway. There's no way she'd like them. Oh my god. Oh my god I didn't ask her permission. She's going to think I'm so weird oh my god." You're practically hyperventilating, hands beginning to tremble.

"Hey, hey, easy," Rufioh murmurs soothingly, carelessly setting his DS on the couch and making his way over to you. "Easy, Tauros, I've got you. You don't have to show her if you don't want to. And if I know anything about dolls, then I know she'd be super flattered to have been drawn, especially by you. It's clear how much you love her, Tavros. Shh, it's okay, don't cry. I'm right here. Promise." Rufioh brings his hands slowly to your face, gently cupping your cheeks. Despite his care you flinch, and he makes a soothing noise from the back of his throat. "That's it, Tav, just breath. In and out. Just like that. You're doing great. Just nice, deep breaths." He rubs soothing circles into your cheeks, leaning forward until his chin comes to rest on the top of your head. "I didn't mean to startle you so bad, Tav. Can you forgive me?"

"You didn't do anything," you hiccup, and Rufioh shushes you gently. "You didn't do anything."

"Easy, Tavros, easy. Take another breath for me? That's it, just like that. Can you let it out for me? Good job, Tavros." You feel embarrassed for having to be coddled like this, and it only makes you cry harder. God, you don't deserve this. Don't deserve him. Rufioh gently coaxes you into giving up your sketchbook and sets it next to you on the couch, moving to take both your hands in his. He rubs your palms, writing words into your skin with more care than he should. "Love you, Tavros. I love you, I love you, I love you." He murmurs the words like a prayer, and everywhere he touches feels like it's on fire. Every time you had a panic attack Rufioh would do this, get down on his knees so your difference in heights wasn't so severe, rub the numbness from your hands and murmur affirmations into your skin until they were practically tattooed there. He retaught you how to breathe, acting like this was the first time and not like this had been a near weakly occurrence only months ago. There had been times when he had left parties or dates to come to your aid when you called him, begging for him to come home because Dad wasn't there and the shadows were high on the walls and looked so much like  _Her_ you thought she was in the room with you. 

"You're okay, Tavros, I've got you. I'm not going to let you go. I promise." You try and shake your hands free and he lets you, holding his arms out so you can ungracefully tip forward into them. He lets you cling to him, crying into your shoulders as your nails dig into his back. He shifts to accommodate you, trying to rub the tension from out of your shoulders. "Hey, Tavros, can we try something?" You nod into his shoulder with a little hiccup, and he hums soothingly. "Can you name the Pokémon in order? Let's do Gen 1, okay?" Another nod, and he lets you sit there another moment before nudging you gently. "Can you tell me number one, Tavros?"

"Bulbasuar," you stammer out, and he reaches up to run his fingers through your hair. "Uh, Ivysaur, Venusaur."

"Good, good, you're doing so good," he murmurs the words into your hair, bending awkwardly to do so, fingers moving to rub at the juncture between your neck and your shoulders. You sigh, already breathing easier, loosening your grip on him."Charmander, Charmeleon, Charizard," you start up again, and Rufioh begins to straighten. "Squirtle, Wartortle, Blastoise. Um, Caterpie?"

"Yep, you're right, keep going. Just like that."

"Metapod, Butterfree." Rufioh's hands still for a moment, thumbs tucked against the hollows behind your ears. "I'm okay," you whisper to him, "I'm okay, I'm sorry, thank you." 

"Don't be sorry, Tavros. It's my fault. I'm sorry." His presses his thumbs firmly before he removes his hands entirely. 

"I still want to go," you stammer, and suddenly his hands are back on you, running through your hair and pressing against your forehead like he's checking for a fever. "Rufioh?"

"You don't have to go," he insists, "if you don't feel comfortable. I know that I'm always pushing you to try new things, Tavros, but if you genuinely don't want to do something then tell me. We can stay home, and watch a movie, and get some cheap takeout. All you have to do is say so." 

"I want to go," you repeat, although your voice still trembles. "And I'm going to bring my sketchbook." 

\---

"Thank you for protecting me." Feferi looks over at you, brows furrowed. "During the student council meeting." Her mouth makes a perfect 'o' and her eyebrows go up so high they get lost in her bangs. 

"Oh, that was nofin'," she giggles, twirling a curl around her finger. "Besides, I didn't like the way he was lookin' at you." 

"I'm practically swooning. Please, do catch me before I faint at how fast your possessiveness makes my heart beat." Feferi begins to laugh loudly, wriggling in her seat. "Oh, I can hear the angels already. Save me before it's too late."

"Araydia," the other girl manages between laughs, rubbing at her eyes. "You're too glubbin' funny."

"I certainly try," you hum, glancing out the window. "We should be at my house soon. Do you want to grab a bunch of things and decide at your house, or pick there?"

"We can pick there. It isn't until later, anyway. Can I do your makeup too?" 

"I suppose," you let out an over exaggerated sigh, sending Feferi into another fit of giggles. "Do you have a game plan, or are you going to just go with the flow."

"Oh, I have a plan," you raise an eyebrow, and she tuts at you. "I can't just tell you! It'd ruin the surprise. Promise you'll wear whatever I pick?"

"Last time I promised that I was barley wearing anything," you retort, but there isn't any heat behind it.

"It was a  _swimsuit_ Araydia. Besides, you looked so cute in it! Showing off your cute little tummy and thighs. I would've kissed you if--"

"If you weren't so busy dying over the fact that Nepeta looked positively, or should I say,  _pawsitively_ adorable in her olive green one piece." 

"Hey! I wasn't the only one doing some fawning that day." She argues weakly, and you smile fondly at her. 

"Oh yes, because that date you tried to set me up on went absolutely swimmingly, didn't it."

"You can't deny his accent was cute, though. And how was I suppose to know he was gay!" She puffs out her cheeks at you and you burst into giggles. "I'm going to find you someone, I swear."

"The day you find me someone is also the day you confess your undying love for Nepeta, break the school records for diving, and inherit your mother's company."

"It's not that impossible, Araydia. There's gotta be  _someone_ who likes you as much as I do." You don't have the heart to tell her that, no, there probably isn't. So you smile weakly at her instead, shoulder sagging in defeat. "I'll wear whatever you put me in, Feferi." The squeal you get in response makes you roll your eyes, but you're genuinely comforted by her efforts to try and get you a significant other. It's cute, even if it has resulted in some awkward situations, but the stories the two of you have make every second worth it. The car pulls up to your house and the two of you exit, Feferi bidding the driver farewell with a giggle and wave of her hand. He flushes a bit under the attention, and awkwardly waves back before driving off. The other girl skips to the door, and you feel the familiar nerves tugging at your chest. No matter how many times Feferi came over you still got nervous about her seeing your house. She's practically vibrating as she waits for you to unlock the door, and the moment it's open she dashes inside, barely avoiding the coffee table as she heads to your room. 

Shaking your head you trail slowly after her, kicking your shoes off and setting them neatly by the others. The house is in a total state of disarray, and you can smell the vestiges of cigarette smoke and something even stronger. It makes your stomach lurch, and you hope that Damara had only had a quick smoke and taken off afterwards. You want to clean, badly, but Feferi was waiting and if she found out what you were doing she would only try to help, and you don't want to embarrass yourself more than you already had. So you follow after her, maneuvering more carefully around the furniture towards your bedroom. The smell of smoke is stronger here, almost enough to make you gag, but you slip past Damara's door and head into your own room.

It's cleaner than the rest of the house (although that wasn't difficult) and Feferi is perched on your bed, wriggling happily when she sees you. As soon as you sit down she's up and rummaging through your closet. It makes you laugh, and you know that no matter what happens you're going to have fun. Because you trust Feferi, no matter what.

\----

"Um, Rufioh? I don't...help?" Your brother turns to you with a grin, knowing what you were trying to say even if you couldn't get the words out.

"I'll be right there, Tavros." He calls back, typing something quickly on his phone before rising off the couch with a yawn. "Man, I don't even know what  _I'm_ going to wear."

"Something Horuss can easily take off," you mumble under your breath, flushing when Rufioh laughs loudly. He slings an arm around your shoulders, ruffling your hair roughly. You lean into him in response, nudging him just a bit closer to the wall. It's difficult, trying to walk through the hall together, but the two of you manage to successfully maneuver your way through the narrow hall and into your bedroom. At Rufioh's insistence you sit on the bed. And by insistence you mean he playfully shoved you towards the bed, you tripped over yourself, and fell back onto your bed. He rummages through your closet like he has a plan (you know from previous experience he doesn't) and eventually pulls back with several pieces of clothing balled in his hands. "Change. I'll be back in a minute." Rufioh leaves before you can even respond, clothes thrust haphazardly into your hands and the door barely shut behind him. 

You almost want to laugh when you realize what he picked for you. It's all black, from shirt to socks, and they remind you more of a middle-school student than a high-school one, but it'sso  _you_ that you're reminded once again how thankful you are to have a brother like this. Carefully you remove your shirt and slip into the one he gave you. It's almost too small, which surprises you because you've barely grown since the end of seventh grade. Maybe you'd finally put on some muscle? Whatever the reason, you certainly don't mind. You're halfway into the jeans Rufioh had grabbed (thankfully they fit--you would have died of embarrassment if had seen you struggling to make your legs fit in a pair of skinny jeans) and he just grins at you in response, carefully making space on your dresser to set whatever it was he brought in on it. He had changed, too, you noticed; his worn t-shirt replaced with a black muscle tank and his jeans more stylishly ripped and patched. 

What really catches your attentions are the messily placed bronze patches on whatever skin he could reach in the five minutes it took for him to change and bring himself back over. And when he finally turns back to you, it's with a pot of it in hand. "We all get colors when we go to Meenah's parties. She thinks it's fun. Ours is bronze. Sit down, yeah? It'll make it a lot easier. You'll look less of a disaster and more like it was intentional." He laughs, and you smile in response. Sure, Rufioh's paint (?) is messy, but it's wild and care free and more like him then he's probably willing to admit. You close your eyes when he tells you to, nose crinkling at the feeling of whatever he's smearing over your eyes. It's cold, and not at all paint like, and he tells you to remain really still while it dries so it doesn't crease. "That friend of yours, Kanaya? Her sister did my makeup last time. Gave me tips. I'll make sure to introduce you so she doesn't completely think her teachings went to waste." You try not to laugh at that, cringing a bit when he lightly brushes a clean finger over your eyes. "Alright, you can open 'em now."

You do as he says, blinking up at him. There are stripes in what you assume are the same bronze color over the highest points of his face, but the lines are streaky and uneven like he had done them in a rush. It makes you laugh, trying not to move to much so you don't jostle the other jars he had set beside you. Rufioh laughs back, waiting until you had stilled before beginning to apply the same technique (much neater and much carefully this time) on you. His fingers trace just above your cheekbones and along the sides of your forehead; he carefully does the tip of your nose and your chin. "There. Looking like a bronze statue my dude." You have to bite on your lip to keep from laughing, worried any movement will crease the paint. He wipes his hands on his jeans before picking another jar. "This is actual makeup. No more of that weird paint stuff." You sigh in relief and he ruffles your hair. "Porrim said this stuff is supposed to bring out the shadows on your face and make you look more masculine. I figured it would make you feel more confident" You squeeze your eyes shut to try and keep from crying, so overwhelmed by how much your brother cared about you. "Hey, shh, none of that now. C'mon, I need to you relax. There you go." He coaxes you into relaxing while dipping his finger in the jar, hesitating a moment before beginning to trace your jawline. 

It's nothing like the first thing he put on, light and at a much more bearable temperature. He takes his time, smoothing it down and stepping back every so often to check if it was even. It makes you embarrassed, seeing how much effort he's putting into you. After a few minutes he makes a satisfied noise and reaches for the jar. "And that's it! Oh, I have one more thing for you, actually. Stand up and close your eyes, would you?" Again, you do as he says, letting him pull you forward a few steps. He pulls away from you and you hear the sound of the jars being set on the table and shuffling of fabric before you feel him next to you again. Something heavy settles on your shoulders, and Rufioh begins trying to shift your arms to try and slip into (what you assume to be) sleeves. "Help a brother out, would you?" 

You help him bend your arm into the first sleeve, and then the second. He tugs at the collar to try and get it to rest better on your slim frame, but it does very little. Whatever you're now wearing, it's far too big for you. "Okay, you can open your eyes." You do, looking first at your brother who looks so much like the cat who caught the canary you feel a little nervous, and then down at your arms. Shocked you look back up at him, grinning. "Your letterman jacket?"

"My JV one, yeah. I've actually grown out of it, and I figured you'd like to wear. I mean, you don't have to, if you..."

"I love it," you interrupt, and he ruffles your hair fondly. "Thank you."

"Anything for my favorite brother." He jokes. "Well, we've got enough time to warm up the car before we go. I'll do that, and you can get your stuff. Meet me there in five, yeah?" Nodding, you watch as he leaves, humming the opening to one of the animes he had been watching lately. As soon as he's gone you wrap your arms around your chest, sighing. You're so happy you could burst. You've always envied your brother, because just having a letterman jacket meant you were a part of something, and that was more than you had ever been able to say. And now you had one. Granted, you hadn't earned it (yet. Hadn't earned it yet.) but it was enough of a confidence booster that you felt like you could do anything. Crouching down you reach for the travel-sized sketchbook you kept underneath your bed, nearly hitting your head on your way up. You laugh a little at that, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly before grabbing your pencil bag and heading out towards the car. No matter what happened tonight, you were going to have fun. 

\---

"Feferi I can't--how did you even  _find_ that?" The other girl only giggles, pressing the clothes into your hands. 

"Please, just try it on? For me?" You sigh, trying your best to avoid her pouting lips and puppy eyes. Wordlessly you take them from her and set them beside you, unbuttoning your top. She grins and heads towards your dresser, going through your makeup. "The makeup remover is in the second drawer on the right; the paint in the drawer above it."

"I know. I'm just looking." 

"You've seen it all before." Feferi turns to retort only to squeal and whip back around, presumably embarrassed. "They're just boobs, Feferi. Geez, and you're attracted to girls? How are you going to survive." She mumbles something into one of the drawers she's "searching", and you roll your eyes. "Did you pick out a new bra, too, or is this one fine?"

"New one is already in there," she chirps, and you shake your head before searching for the bra she picked up. You whistle your approval at her choice and she wriggles happily from her seat at your vanity. It's one of your nicer bras (a gift from her, actually, because she needed some and insisted on getting some for you, too), black lace over burgundy fabric. To your amusement she had tucked the matching panties into one of the cups. "Thanks, dearest," you call at her, and she giggles. You undo the clasps of your bra and slip the new one on, struggling a moment to do the clasps. Afterwards you roll your shoulders, unsure of how much you liked the way they were situated on your shoulders. "Want some help?" She offered, swiveling around to face you.

"Can you loosen the straps?" Feferi nods and saunters over, swinging her hips in an over exaggerated way just to make you laugh. She neatly tucks herself behind you and adjusts the straps until you sigh in relief; she rubs your shoulders before leaning against you. "Araydia," she giggles, drawing out as many syllables as possible, "you're going to break hearts tonight."

"I don't want to break hearts," you say seriously, "I want to keep them." 

"You want to be in love," she makes fake kissing noises right next to your ear, and you blindly try and grab at her. Feferi squeals and squirms back, and you roll over to try and pin her. She's laughing, the breathless kind that makes you wonder how Nepeta hasn't confessed to her yet; the kind of laugh that made you wonder if you were in love with her, too, when you were small. When you manage to blow a raspberry into the sensitive skin of her stomach she squeals, reaching up to tug lightly at your hair as she pleads with you to let go of her. You press another sloppy kiss to her stomach for good measure before pulling away enough to look at her. She's flushed, eyes wide, and you love her so much in that moment that it makes you heart do backflips. "I love you," you whisper, and she tightens her grip on your hair.

"I know," she murmurs back, arching up to press her forehead to yours. "I love you, too." 

"Even like this?" You aren't sure what you're referring too, exactly. But she seems to understand, releasing her hold on your hair in favor of wrapping her arms around your neck.

"Especially like this."

"It's different," you aren't sure why you feel the need to explain every feeling in your head, but you do, because you trust her. It's Feferi who's been by your side since the beginning, who held your hand when you were five and mocked for the way your veins stood out against your fair skin; Feferi, who sobbed for days when you told her you were moving and called every single day without fail until you moved back; Feferi, who walked proudly with you throughout the halls because she didn't care how you dressed or looked so long as you were kind; Feferi who tore apart anyone who dared to bully you within her vicinity with cold words and threats that made their blood run cold; Feferi, who did your makeup and picked out outfits for you because it was fun; Feferi, who was currently burying her face into your neck and saying that she loved you no matter what. "It's not the same," you choke out, and when she hums it reverberates through your entire being. "

"What's not the same? Love is love, Araydia. No matter what form it comes in, it's still important." You don't know what to say to that, so you pull her closer and try to relax. "I love you, and I love Nepeta, and I love you both differently, but just as much. And someday you'll find someone you love, and that doesn't mean you'll stop loving me."

"You really think I'll find someone?" Your voice breaks halfway through, and she shushes you soothingly.

"I do," she insists, petting your hair gently. "I do." 

"Sorry," you sniffle, and she sighs. "I didn't mean to get so serious, and start crying, and..." 

"It's fine," she takes your face between her hands and squishes your cheeks together, making you giggle weakly. "It's been a while since we've just talked and let things out. Now, I'm going to get you a makeup wipe, and maybe a few tissues, and you're going to get dressed." She pats your cheek before beginning to untangle herself from you, which you do your best to assist. Eventually your limbs are separated with minimum damage, and Feferi is grabbing things from your vanity to bring back to you while you change into the panties she gave you, slipping them under your skirt before slipping that off, too. You're just slipping into the romper she had given you when she turns back around. "Oh Araydia," she squeals, bouncing over to you. "You're gonna look so cute!" She settled next to you on the bed as you tug the romper on, wincing when you see how much of your leg is exposed. There's a lot of your arm bared, too, and the romper is just tight enough that you feel uncomfortable. But Feferi is looking at you like you're a goddess who's graced the earth with her presence, so you force you insecurities to the back of your mind and smile up at her. "I'm all yours," you whisper, and Feferi nods. She offers you the pack of makeup wipes and you take one, trying to resist the urge to just scrub at your face. When you think you're at least _somewhat_ decent you hand the wipe back to her, which she takes and throws over with a flourish that makes you giggle. "I'll pick it up," she promises as she grabs a clean wipe. "Eyes closed, please."

 ---

The car ride takes away some of your nerves. It's hard to feel anything but happy with Rufioh poorly imitating artist after artist on the radio. He glances at you occasionally, checking to make sure you weren't sinking back into your thoughts, and if he thought even for a second you were he turned the radio to the most obnoxious station possible and  _screamed_ the lyrics, making you jump and laugh and roll your eyes at him. When you're not looking at him you're looking at your sketchbook, drawing slightly shaky doodles all across the page. They're little things, like frogs and Bulbasaurs, drawn mostly to keep your hands busy and less for the aesthetic. You flip to an older picture and begin doodling. It's (unsurprisingly) a picture of Aradia done in a more cutesy style. Rufioh had shown you pictures of gothic lolitas and had rather excitedly said, "It's kinda like your doll, right?" You had been inspired instantly. It's a simple picture, just Aradia holding an umbrella with a moody expression. Truthfully it's one of your favorites. You begin sketching little ghosts, trying your best to keep with the same style. It's a little difficult, especially since it's been ages since you've drawn this way, so you draw light and make a mental reminder to check up and fine tune them when you're finally reached your destination.

 When you finally look out the window you see your brother pulling into a long, curving drive that leads to the biggest house you've seen. Ever. It's the kind of house they show in movies about whiny rich kids or in documentaries about men whose base salaries were more than you would ever be worth in your entire life. You must have looked overwhelmed because Rufioh hums, turning the radio down a few notches before speaking. "I reacted the same way when I saw it for the first time. Crazy, huh?" You nod, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. It's just big, it's  _huge_ , and that means that there's a chance a lot of people are going to go there. Before you can panic, Rufioh begins speaking again. "I know that look. There's going to be, like, twelve people, max. And they're all going to be on the first floor. If you get overwhelmed, there are plenty of empty rooms you can camp out in. And you can always come get me if you need to. I won't be mad, Tavros, look at me." You do, nervously studying the array of emotions on his face. "I won't be mad, okay? Promise. If it gets too overwhelming we can go home. My offer on takeout still stands, too." That makes you laugh, although it's a bit weak, and Rufioh smiles fondly at you as he pulls out onto the grass next to a rather sleek looking truck. 

Your brother did have a point on there being very few people here. Besides your car and the truck next to you there were only two other vehicles parked on the lawn. Rufioh gets out the car and waits for you to clamber out before heading towards the house. He slings an arm around your shoulders, keeping you close to him as you both squeeze onto the front doorstep. You hold your sketchbook close to your chest, nails digging so deeply into the leather that you know you're going to leave more crescent-moon shaped indents in it. Rufioh knocks on the door, and you wince when you hear shouting come from behind you. He looks at you in concern, brows furrowing, but it melts into a warm expression when the door swings open. "Good to see you, doll." You look up to see who Rufioh's speaking too, and manage to smile when you recognize her. 

"Good to see you too, darling," she purrs, reaching forward to wrap her arms around him. "Meenah is in the living room, if you want to go find her." You try not to flinch when her attention shifts to you, instead focusing on the jade paint winding around her fair arms. "Tavros, isn't it? Kanaya is home sick; she'll be sorry she missed you." You feel warmth spread across your face and she laughs, but it isn't mean. "Are you two just going to stand out there, or are you going to come in?" Rufioh laughs, and nudges you in forward. You stumble inside, and as you right yourself you miss the fond expressions that cross both your brother and Porrim's faces. The pair of you toe off your shoes, and you flinch as someone enters the entryway, loudly swearing. "Meenah," Porrim sighs, and the girl turns her attention to the three of you.

"Hey, Rufioh," the girl greets, and your brother grins.

"'Hey' yourself, doll," he replies, and she saunters up to him. You glance nervously at Porrim, who seems relatively annoyed, before returning your gaze to Meenah. She's slung her arms over your brother's shoulders and is whispering something to him that makes his face go red. Compared to Feferi, she's all skin and bones, and the jut of her hips is emphasized by the stripes of fuchsia that are messily placed there. Her arms, too, are covered in messy handprints in both fuchsia and a pretty shade of blue. There's a blue handprint on her face speckled with pink, and her glasses are askew on her face. "And who's the shrimp, Rufioh?" 

 You can't help but flinch, practically cowering under her gaze, and out of the corner of your eye you notice Porrim take a protective step forward. "Can't you tell, doll? This is Tavros, and he is a hundred and ten percent pure Nitram." Rufioh grins at you, but you notice he seems a bit uncomfortable. Meenah makes a little "huh" before saying, "Well, whatever. Fuck if I care. Princess is upstairs if he wants to see her." She says something to Rufioh, but you don't catch it over how loud your own heart is in your own ears. You're brought back to reality by a hand on your shoulder and someone (your fear-wracked brain thinks it's Porrim's) whispering, "Shh, darling, it's alright Come back to us now." 

"Sorry, Tavros, I know she's intense," Rufioh's hands join Porrim's, gently rubbing at your shoulders. "You okay? Need to sit down?" 

"'m fine," you whisper, voice to high. "'m okay." Porrim coos over you, nails making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up when she traces them over your neck. It's nice, and your shoulders sag in relief. She whispers something to Rufioh, practically attaching her lips to his ear so you can't hear (you aren't bothered, you know it's about you and if the way her brows are furrowed she's worried about you) before giving your shoulder a quick squeeze and heading deeper into the house. "Sorry," you breath, fiddling with your sketchbook. "She's scary." Rufioh chuckles, letting out a breathy, "I know, bud. Porrim is nice, though?" You nod, and he reaches up to run his fingers through your hair.

"I wanna stay." You know he's going to ask, he always asks if you even seem like you're overwhelmed, and he sighs.

"God, you really are a Nitram. Stubborn as a bull and twice as strong." You want to protest, you really do. You aren't strong. He took you to workout with him, once, just the two of you, and you could barely bench the  _bar_ , let alone the bar with weights. Hell, your brother could probably bench you and not even break a sweat. The argument dies on your lips, however, because Porrim returns, glass in hand and still looking just as concerned as before. She looks pretty, even with concern making guilt swirl angrily in your chest, and her lips curl into a smile when she catches your gaze. Her eyes are pretty, you note, a not-quite green, not-quite black color that goes nicely with her eyes painted jade and lips drawn in black. The glint of her piercings, too, make her look powerful, almost intimidating, but you aren't scared of her. How can you be, when she dotes on you just as your brother does, patient and accommodating of your needs just like her sister when you call her because you're too overwhelmed and too scared to call Rufioh. They're wonderful, all of them, and you whisper that along with your thanks when she presses the water into your hands.

"Oh darling," she coos, reaching up to straighten the collar of your jacket. "It's not a problem. Would you like to come in?" She says the last bit after you've swallowed, and you're actually a bit impressed when you don't choke on air. You nod, shyly looking up at her, and when she smiles it makes all the nerves settle in your stomach. "The people in there are loud, but they won't bother you." She informs you, and you find yourself thanking every lucky star that she was here. Rufioh seems more at ease with how you're interacting with her, rolling his shoulders back and even checking his phone. It's a little thing, insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but your brother never does anything that would distract him from you if he knew you were uncomfortable or in a place without someone you trusted. Porrim keeps a hand on your shoulder as she leads the way further into the house, even when she has to bend her arm awkwardly when you walk through the narrow hall that opens up into a kitchen. 

It was loud, almost unbearably so (you wonder how you didn't hear it, even if the door before the kitchen was closed), the music going through your entire body in a way that makes you shake. You would have been embarrassed if you couldn't feel it reverberating through her, too. Porrim's expressions sours, molding into something almost angry when a boy sitting on the counter whistles at her. Another boy turns to him and begins to say something that you can't even begin to comprehend over the noise and with how fast his mouth is moving. Porrim smirks, however, and her expression grows fond. "The boy on the counter is Cronus," she presses her lips to your ear so she can be heard, "and the boy lecturing him is Kankri. They're seniors, too, and so helplessly in love it's almost pitiful." You nod, not sure what to do with the information, but grateful for it nonetheless. 

"Horuss is here," Rufioh leans down to say to you, "I'm going to go open the door for him. Are you okay here with Porrim?" You reach up for him, awkwardly maneuvering him into a position where he can hear you. 

"I'll be okay," you end up having to repeat yourself, anyway, practically shouting the words in his ear. He doesn't seem to bothered, patting you on the head before returning the way you came. Porrim reaches down and takes your hand in hers, tugging it once gently to get you to follow her. She walks through the house like she's been in it a million times, slipping past several girls who stare at the pair of you like they can't believe their eyes. Once you've gone through several halls and doors she finally stops, turning to you. It's quieter here, the music seeming to be at an almost normal volume, and she doesn't have to raise her voice when she speaks to you. "I assumed you would be more comfortable in here. Your brother usually camps out here if things get too wild." You nod, pointedly choosing to ignore the "too wild" part of her statement. "Nothing will bite, darling. You can go ahead and make yourself comfortable."

"Are you staying?" You ask, feeling a bit selfish, but Porrim doesn't seem to mind.

"Of course, darling. Meenah won't kill anyone until the beer has arrived. Poor thing can barely hold her liquor." When she sees how nervous she looks she squeezes your hand, brushing her thumb over your knuckles. "Rufioh doesn't drink, and even if he did, he wouldn't dare do it with such precious cargo." You flush, and she leads you towards the couch. "Would you like another glass of water?" Nodding, she takes the glass from your hand and tells you she'll "be back in a moment".  You curl up in the couch, glancing around (even though the room was empty save for you) before picking up your phone and opening Pesterchum. 

adiosToreador [AT]  began pestering  grimAuxiliatrix [GA]

AT: uHHH, HEY KANAYA, 

AT: pORRIM SAID YOU WERE SICK, 

AT: i'M UHHH, SORRY ABOUT THAT, i HOPE THAT YOU FEEL BETTER SOON 

GA: I Appreciate The Sentiment Tavros I Too Hope I Am Well Again In A Reasonable Amount Of Time  

GA: If You Do Not Mind My Asking How Did You Contact Porrim 

GA: I Was Under The Assumption That You Did Not Have Her Handle 

AT: uH, i WENT TO A PARTY WITH Rufioh, 

AT: sHE MET US AT THE DOOR, sHE'S NICE,

AT: sHE HELPED CALM ME DOWN AND TOOK ME TO A QUIETER PART OF THE HOUSE, 

GA: I See 

GA: I Am Quite Proud Of You Tavros Going To One Of Meenahs Parties Is No Small Feat

GA: I Am Afraid I Cannot Stay And Chat Much Longer Enjoy Your Evening Tavros 

grimAuxiliatrix [GA]  ceased pestering  adiosToreador [AT]

AT: uH, BYE KANAYA, i HOPE YOU FEEL BETTER SOON,

adiosToreador [AT]  ceased pestering  grimAuxiliatrix [GA]

\---

Feferi had tucked herself upstairs the moment the first guest arrived, forcing you to sit in a pile of blankets as she rummaged through her closet. The poor thing looked stressed, and you wanted to tell her that, in the end, if wouldn't matter what she wore. Most of the people would be too shit-faced to remember what she wore. But you knew, too, that she wasn't dressing for them; she was trying to dress for girl who had just sent a message saying she would be over in twenty minutes. "Fef," you call, and she whips around to face you. "It's my turn to return the favor. Start doing your makeup and I'll pick something for you to wear." She looks conflicted, nervously playing with the hem of her shirt. 

"I'm just nervous, Araydia," she whimpers, and you untangle yourself from the blankets so you can join her at the closet. 

"You really shouldn't be; it's a party where you're supposed to show skin, show off, and anyone would die seeing a body like yours. She'll eat you up no matter what you wear." You push your through her clothes to the skirt you know she keeps tucked in the back, grinning. "If she doesn't drool at all when she sees you in this, then she has no taste. At all." Pressing the clothes into her hands makes her sputter, face flushing prettily. "Go on, go. Get dressed. I'll find the paint." She scampers off to do as you said, and you shake your head before making your way to her cluttered vanity. For all her claims that it was "organized" you knew she wouldn't be able to find her foundation if she hadn't wrapped a bright pink scrunchie around it and set it towards the front. It takes most of your willpower to not sit down and tidy it now, but you know it will be back to a disaster in a day, maybe even a few hours. That was her can of worms to deal with, not yours, and you're just grateful she keeps her body paint in about the same place each time. At the sound of the door opening you turn, smiling widely at Feferi. 

She looked like a goddess (truthfully she always did, in your opinion), but she seems nervous, clasping awkwardly at the fabric of her skirts. It can barely be called a skirt--it's simply layers of practically see-through blue and green fabrics attached to a white bodysuit that bares her arms and legs while the neckline sits at her throat. "Beautiful," you coos, and she flushes. 

"Can you zip up the back?" 

"Yeah, c'mere. I'll fix you up." She giggles weakly, and you set the paint on her vanity. "Are you going to paint yourself, or do you want me to do it?" 

"I'll do it," she says as she turns, "at least, the parts I can reach." You hum in response, easily pulling up her zipper. Before she can turn around you wrap your arms around her waist, resting your chin on her shoulder. After a moment she leans back, placing her hands on top of yours. "Is something wrong? You've been awfully cuddly today." 

"Nothing wrong, just thinking."

"'bout what?"

"Well, if you must know," you draw out the 'must' so long you almost run out of breath, "I'm thinking about your funeral."

"My funeral?"

"Well, when Nepeta confesses to you, you're going to be so happy that you die." You say it like you're stating the weather, something boring and mundane and so,  _so_ obvious. The noise she makes has you in stiches, and she manages to twist around and bury her face into your shoulder, whining. You run your fingers through her hair, a silent apology for flustering her, and when she pulls away she sniffles and glares at you. She isn't mad at you--when Feferi is mad, her cheeks puff up like a blowfish and she becomes a hurricane of harsh phrases and barbing remarks. This is Feferi when she's flustered, overwhelmed by feelings and desperate to find somewhere to collect herself. She clings to you, and you let her, running your fingers over the sensitive spots behind the back of her ears. "Love you," she murmurs into your shoulder, words coming out muffled. 

"Love you too, Feferi. Now come on, let's get you painted, yeah?"

It takes you a good ten minutes to apply the paint, and another five to pull her hair into an up-do so you can apply it to her shoulders without worry of it getting in her hair. "We're the cutest," she states, and you roll your eyes.

" _You're_ the cutest," you insist, and she sticks out her tongue at you in retaliation. She settles carefully on the edge of the bed, uncomfortably positioned so her legs don't touch the covers. When she checks her phone she squeals, and you make the assumption that: A, Nepeta had sent her a message of her arrival, or B, Nepeta had sent a picture of some sort to Feferi. It very well could be both. "We might need those funeral plans," Feferi manages, voice too high and breathy. You settle beside her, looking at her phone. And you immediately melt, making a cooing noise that would have embarrassed you under any other circumstance.

arsenicCatnip [AC]  began pestering  cuttlefishCuller [CC]

arsenicCatnip [AC] has sent the file :33 <YOUKNOWLIKENYA.jpg--

AC: :33< ameow me to purrsent the most adorapawl makeup look evfurr 

Feferi had yet to reply, still staring wide-eyed at the image the other girl had sent. Nepeta had (quite fittingly) done her makeup to resemble a cat, whiskers and nose painted in a flattering shade of olive green. She's grinning widely, free hand brought up near her cheek in what you assume is a parody of a cat's paw. Her hair is mussed up, and from what you can see she's only in a black sports bra, her signature olive jacket draped over her shoulders. Paw prints had been drawn along her collar bones, and in the space between was a slightly lopsided heart. You could only imagine what she had done on the rest of her body. Feferi must be picturing it, too, because her face goes completely red and she lets out a noise that sounds somewhere between a low groan and like she's choking on air. "You've got it bad," you whisper, and she only nods, quickly typing out a response. With a shake of your head you leave her to her conversation, heading to your vanity. "I'm going to organize this while you fawn over her," you state, and she gives a strangled noise in response. "English, please, Feferi."

"Oh my cod Araydia she's five minutes away please save me." 

"You mean you're five minutes away from Nepeta confessing to you," you reply, and when she lets out another garbled noise you sigh. "Feferi, it's going to be okay, I promise." 

"You can't break promises, Araydia," she whimpers, and you turn so she can see you.

"There is no way in hell I am going to break this promise, Fef. You are going to be okay, and I will do everything in my power to ensure that." 

"I trust you," Feferi says slowly, and you grin. 

"I'm glad."

\---

A few minutes after messaging Kanaya Porrim had returned, pressing a glass in your hand and settling on the couch beside you with a sigh. You glance at her, and when you decide that her attention isn't going to be on you you open your sketchbook and flip to a new page. It takes you a moment to decide what to draw, finally settling on drawing Aradia. The sketch is rough, full of messily curving lines that overlap so much it's a wonder that you can make out anything at all. You're just staring to draw her features when the door opens, and both you and Porrim turn to see who it is. Rufioh enters the room, Horuss on his arm, and you relax. They settle in the couch across from you, Horuss half in Rufioh's lap with your brother's arm slung around his shoulders. He smiles at you, the same gentle, fond smile he gives your brother when his attention is elsewhere. It makes you sink back into the couch, bringing your knees up so you can tuck them against your chest. "Your doll's here," Rufioh says lazily, and your head snaps up to look at him. "She's running around with Meenah's sister and the Leijon doll," when Horuss glances up at him he adds, "the younger one."

"Nepeta." Horuss offers, and Rufioh hums. "She's quite a sweet girl."

"Not as sweet as you, babe," your brother leans down to kiss his boyfriend and you pointedly look away. Porrim makes a gagging noise, startling both of them, and you raise a hand to keep the laugh from escaping your throat. Rufioh narrows his eyes at you, but it's less annoyed and more concerned. You let your hand fall, grinning at him to try and assuage his worries, but it comes out crooked and strained. "You okay?" He mouths, and you nod. 

"I'm fine," you mouth back, and he raises an eyebrow. "Really!" He shakes his head, and his boyfriend peers up at him curiously. 

"Stubborn as a bull," he murmurs, and Horuss hums in agreement. Porrim laughs, rising to her feet. She brushes her fingers through your hair as she passes, purring, "Sorry love, but I have to take off. Meenah and Cronus are at each other's throats; poor Kankri is beside himself." 

"Good luck," Rufioh chimes, and you nod in agreement. You watch as she leaves, keeping your eyes politely trained on the back of her neck. Glancing at your brother for a sign that you could return back to drawing, only doing so when he gives a lazy grin and turns his attention back to Horuss. You make a face when your hear their lips lock, and lament the fact that your headphones are sitting on your bedside table. It's easy to drown them out, and you continue your sketch of Aradia. 

The party goes on, getting louder the longer time goes on. Your sketch becomes more detailed, more precise, and a glance at your brother shows that he's half-asleep, whispering something to his boyfriend. They're holding hands, and it's so grossly domestic you can't help but roll your eyes. "Jealous, little bull?" Rufioh teases, and you laugh quietly so as not to disturb Horuss. 

"Maybe a little," you offer, and your brother hums.

"You really should show her, Tav. Who knows, maybe it'll be the start of your relationship?"

"I don't know," you begin, but apparently the universe has other plans, because the door opens and, to your poor, unprepared heart, Aradia Megido walks in, arm in arm with Feferi and another girl.

God, you are so fucked.


	2. Chapter 2

Feferi had promised you a quiet room when someone had attempted to grab your ass (again, you noted dully) and Nepeta had nearly attempted to claw his eyes out when she noticed. She led you confidently through the house, and when you could finally stop feeling the bass reverberating through your body she stops, swinging the door open as she turns to say something Nepeta. Three sets of eyes turn to stare at you, and you tighten your grip of Feferi's arm instinctively. To her credit she doesn't falter, maneuvering so the three of you can squeeze through the door. You keep your eyes trained on the people you (quite rudely, in your opinion) interrupted. 

There's a pair on one of the couches, and the shorter of the two perks up when he notices Nepeta. She grins eagerly and bounces over to him, squealing, "Horuss! Good to see you." He lets himself be pulled into an embrace, politely keeping his hands on her shoulders. The teen beside him lets out a snort, rolling his eyes. You recognize him as Rufioh Nitram, the school's golden boy, and a former interest of your older sister. You shudder at the thought. He runs a hand through his hair before lazily grinning at you, a grin you easily return. The few times you had interacted had been pleasant, you suppose, if you ignored the bruises forming around his neck and the shouting matches that had happened when they thought you weren't home. Rufioh was always apologetic, asking how your day was before he slipped out the front door. Whenever he came over next there was always a small gift set in front of your bedroom door, prettily wrapped and yet another apology scrawled on a post-it note. 

"Hey, dolls," he greets smoothly, and your gaze follows his to the third boy. His shoulders are tense, knees so tightly drawn against his chest you wonder if it hurts. "Party too loud?"  You shrug, letting Feferi lead you to the couch the younger boy was sitting on. At least, you think he's younger. He watches you warily, hesitating a moment before moving over to the other arm of the couch. You smile at him and he flushes, bringing the notebook in his lap close to his face. 

"Meenah has some really crappy friends," Feferi offers, and you hear Rufioh laugh.

"Yeah, I see what you mean. Did she really start fighting Cronus, doll?" 

"Almost," Feferi seems flustered, and you laugh. 

"Almost, she purractically killed him," Nepeta offered, skipping back over to settle next to you. "Purrim settled it, though. It should be fine now."

"Well, I'm sure you didn't come here to see the show," Rufioh teases, and Horuss lets out a strangled sort of noise, burying his face into Rufioh's shoulder.

"Show?" Feferi asks, and part of you is sure you don't want to know.

"They were making out," your head snaps to the third boy, surprised at his input.  _He has a nice voice_ , you think, even as he trips over the letters. Feferi makes a face, and Nepeta lets out a little squeak. You laugh, and his head raises to look at you. It makes your heart stutter, seeing how wide his eyes had gotten. He's looking at you in a way that would put Feferi's doe-eyed looks to shame. The two of you immediately get flustered and look away, and Nepeta gives you a little nudge. 

"Go for it," she mouths, and you shake your head. There's no way he was looking at you because he liked you. He was surprised by your laugh, that's all. Who wouldn't be? It was ugly, too loud and too low. It didn't suit you.

\---

You think her laugh could cure cancer. It was low, almost a rumble, but it filled the room in a way that made it impossible to focus on anything else. A laugh that made you want to laugh, too. Your brother looks over at you, and you catch him mouthing the word, "Relax." Taking a deep breath, you let the tension leave your shoulders and settle into a more comfortable position. God, did you want to draw her right now. _She's prettier up close_ , you decide. When she turns to whisper something to Feferi you glance at her, following the stripes of deep red on her face down her neck, noting how it disappears under her sleeves and reappears on her arms, trailing all the way to her wrist, where it goes far enough to curl around her middle finger. 

"What'cha drawing?" You startle a bit, staring up at the girl.

"Uh, Nepeta, right?" She nods eagerly, and you let out a shaky breath. "Um..." You glance up to your brother for guidance, but his face is currently tucked into the crook of Horuss's neck where he is probably whispering the most sinful words known to man. Nepeta whines, "Can you show me, please?" 

You knew this would happen, Rufioh had  _warned_ you for Christ's sake, but here you are, contemplating how probable it is that you can flee the country and create a new name for yourself, surviving by selling driftwood and doing shitty caricatures at arts and crafts festivals. "You don't wanna show me?" She whispers, and she sounds like she's almost close to tears. God, you're so weak. 

"No, I," you stammer, before thrusting your sketchbook at her. "Please don't cry." The last words run together, but she doesn't seem to notice as she flips to the front of your sketchbook. The other two girls are attracted by the sudden movement, and Nepeta hurriedly sets the sketchbook in Aradia's lap. She glances up at you, and you must have looked extremely nervous because she gently asks, "Are you sure you want us to look? We don't have to, if it makes you uncomfortable."

"No," you begin slowly, taking a deep breath to try and sound more convincing. "It's okay. Promise you won't be mad?"

"Why would I..." She begins, but is cut off by a squeal from Nepeta. 

"How cute." She exclaims, and you force yourself to relax. You know these pages by heart, and you have at least seven to go before anything embarrassing comes up. The first is of your brother after one of Meenah's parties at the end of his junior year. It's one you inked and colored, Rufioh's hair a mess and covered in paint of all colors. "This is so good!" Feferi chimes, and you feel yourself flush. 

The next few pages progress in the same way, exclaims of how good they are and various excited noises. It's only when they near the first drawing of Aradia do you get nervous, chewing at your lower lip. God, you're so fucked, she's going to be so mad, fuck, fuck, fu--

\---

When you turn the page you let out a gasp, too surprised to register the excited squeals of Feferi and Nepeta. Because staring back at you is the most beautiful drawing you've ever seen. And...it's of you. Carefully you trace the lines he had drawn, beautiful curves and curls that make your heart stutter. Is this what Feferi meant? Is this how she feels whenever she thinks of Nepeta, heart pounding in her chest and breathing so difficult she becomes worried she'll stop? You don't even want to flip the page; you want to stay here and stare forever, burn the image into your mind so that it's all you see whenever you close your eyes. You hear a sharp intake of breath and turn, seeing Tavros looking at you. His eyes are wide, and when his gaze catches yours his breath hitches. "It's beautiful," you breathe, and he swallows thickly. 

"There's more," he prompts slowly, looking like he might be sick. "O-Of you, and uh, there might be one of Feferi, too." You nod to show that you understood, shifting to become a bit more comfortable before turning to the next page. It's full of rough sketches of students who attend the school. Or at least, you assume so, because you recognize some of the faces. "Oh, the old student council!" Feferi chimes giddily, scanning the page. "Was this...eighth grade?" Ah, that explained it. You had arrived towards the end of their eighth grade year, taken under Feferi's wing and sticking close to her so you wouldn't have to interact with anyone else. It had given everyone enough time to form an opinion of you, though, and you dreaded the start of high school. Already the student council had decided you were someone who couldn't be trusted because of how you distracted Feferi during meetings (it wasn't your fault they were absolutely boring) and any of the other students (athletes, mostly) shied away from your dark painted lips and moody exterior. They stared, _they always stared_ , whispering behind their hands and laughing at you. And yet, here was someone who stared at you and, if his art was anything to go by, saw something beautiful. 

"Aradia?" He whispers, and you glance at him, noting that he seems less worried and more concerned now. 

\---

She looked like she was going to cry. Her lip was drawn between her teeth, eyes watery, and her fingers idly traced the page. "Aradia?" You try again, and with a shake of her head all the emotion disappears from her face.

"Sorry, I got a little lost," she explains, and you nod in understanding. Carefully she flips to the next page, letting out a little giggle. "That's Fef, alright." The subject lets out a squeal and claps at her cheeks, wiggling happily. Aradia carefully hands the sketchbook to her before standing, and Nepeta eagerly fills the space she vacated. You look up at Aradia, who smiles warmly and, after a moment, offers you her hand. "Come get a drink with me?" Quickly you nod, scrambling to stand and follow her. You wonder if Rufioh will worry when he notices you're gone, but the chances of him noticing are slim to begin with, if the way he's advancing on Horuss are anything to go by. Nepeta glances up, grinning like the cat who caught the canary, and you duck your head as the two of you slip through the door. She hesitates a moment, so much so you nearly run into her, before reaching back and taking your hand. "It's crowded," she admits, and you think she's blushing, but you're too scared to look. "I don't want to loose you."

"I'll stay close," you promise, squeezing her hand. She smiles in response, giving you an experimental tug before continuing. You let her lead you, stepping impossibly closer when you hear the music through the walls. Immediately you cling to her when you see how many people there are, and you feel more than you hear her laugh. "Sorry," you mumble into her shoulder, having to press tightly against her to be heard. She startles a bit, but relaxes when you utter another apology. It's rough, maneuvering through the crowd pressed so close to her, but you manage, and soon enough the two of you are at the drink table. Your nose crinkles at the sight of alcohol on the table, and thankfully Aradia steers you in the opposite direction.

You let her pour you a drink, hoping you don't look as nervous as you feel. After she's poured her own she turns to you, leaning against the table. "Thank you," she mouths, and you tilt your head in confusion. "For coming with me."

"It wasn't, um, a problem," you mumble, and her brows furrow as she tries to repeat what you had said to herself. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" She asks, leaning against the table and taking a sip of her drink. 

You want to say "a lot" but it dies in your throat when you look up at her, coming out instead as a choked gasp. She giggles at that, but there's still concern across her features when she reaches to gently put a hand on your shoulder. "For drawing you without permission," you blurt, and you're surprised at how loud you are. She seems amused, however, and casually takes another sip of her drink. "Tavros, I promise I'm not mad. If anything, I'm really flattered. No one...no one has ever done something like that for me before." 

"I want to do it all the time," you state, and to your surprise you don't feel embarrassed. "I think you're really, really pretty Aradia." 

"Do you really?" She asks, and when you look at her you're nervous because of how sad she looks. "Honest to god?"

"Honest to god," you breathe, and you carefully reach for the hand still on your shoulder. "I think about you a lot. And I always want to draw you, and talk to you, but I've always been too nervous because I was worried you would be mad and now you're not mad and...and..." you trail off at the end, and your shoulders sag in relief when she smiles.

"I hope we have classes together, because I really want to get to know you, too." 

"Hey, Araydia," you both jump, and Meenah laughs. "Listen, apparently we're gonna get busted. Go take princess and hide up stairs, yeah? Take your boy toy, too."

"It's your own fault for bringing alcohol," Aradia groans, before gripping your hand tightly and heading back towards the room. "Thanks, Meenah." The older girl merely shrugs and turns her attention to the table. She tugs, cocking her head at you when you hesitate, and you mumble an apology. The two of you make it back to the room without hitch (if only because everyone was trying to clear out before the police arrived). Your brother looks up when you enter, and you must have looked concerned because he immediately untangles himself from Horuss to make his way towards you. "Tav?" He offers gently, and you try to give him a shaky smile. 

"Someone snitched," Aradia says, and you flinch at how annoyed she sounds. Her thumb brushes across your knuckles like she knew she had startled you even if she couldn't see you, her own quiet apology. Feferi and Nepeta turn, and you're relieved to see that your sketchbook is still safely perched between them. "Whale, guess this means movie night," Feferi giggles, and Aradia lets out a breathy laugh of her own. Gracefully she rises, holding your sketchbook delicately in her hands. "Here you are," she says sweetly, and you smile shyly. "Tavros, isn't it?" 

"Yeah," you murmur, taking it from her and bringing it close to your chest. 

"Are you coming home with us, Horuss?" Rufioh asks, and his boyfriend nods eagerly. 

"You're leaving?" Nepeta says sadly, padding up to the growing group of people around you. "Aw, that's too bad. You could stay and watch movies with us, if you wanted?" 

"I..." You begin, glancing up at Rufioh. He seems surprised, and a little amused, but you know he's tired. And you don't want to make him drive back here just to pick you up. "I'm sorry."

"That's alright," Nepeta says, perking up a bit. "That just means we'll have to hang out some other time!" She throws her arms around you before you can think twice, and you have to release Aradia's hand to pat her gently on the back. Feferi does the same, although a bit more gently, and she places a kiss on your cheek. "I left a surprise in your sketchbook," she whispers, giving you another squeeze before pulling away to stand by Nepeta. Aradia had watched the exchanges with an amused expression on her face, but now that it's just the two of you she seems nervous. "Thank you," she says slowly, shyly glancing up at you. "For everything." You want to say that it's nothing, that you would do it even if she didn't thank you, because you thought she was beautiful. She deserved an altar and a temple and priestesses and everything else that a goddess required because that's what she was. A goddess. And you were the most fervent, most devoted follower to her religion. You don't know how to say that, however, so you smile shyly back and make more crescent-moon indents in the worn leather of your sketchbook.

\------

You want to cling to him. You want to hold him and watch him draw and bask in the warmth of his stare until the sun stops setting and the moon stops rising. You want to ask why he likes you. What he sees. Because clearly he sees something that you cannot, something even Feferi can't see. Feferi makes you feel beautiful, but she has never made your heart race. Not like this. You haven't felt like this since the beginning of eighth grade when Dave had taken you under his wing to protect you from the girls who terrorized you at your old school. But it was different, stronger, the kind of feeling romantics would spew on about as being the feeling of finding your soulmate. Maybe he was. You didn't know, and didn't really care. All you cared about was the feeling of needing to be close to him. You could figure out love and relationships when you figured out why you wanted to be close to him, and, more importantly, why he wanted to be close to you. 

"Aradia?" He asks, voice trembling, and you drag your eyes back up to his face instead of where they had been studying how loosely his letterman jacket fit him. You take a steadying breath, because his gaze is unsure but beautiful and you're drowning, you're sure of it, and  you can feel a hand on the small of your back gently urging you forward and suddenly you're in his arms. He's shorter than you--not by much, and if you were in flats he would be taller than you--and you can feel his fingers tremble against your back. You grip tightly at his shoulders, surprised to find them among the fabric of his jacket sleeves, and he shudders when your nails lightly scratch the back of his neck. Slowly his one hand steadies, and he grips the fabric of your romper tightly. You wonder if he's blushing, because you know for certain you are. It feels like an entire lifetime passes before you pull away, and when you look at him his eyes are wide. "I'll see you around?" You whisper, hopeful. You want to see him, want to get to know him. You want to learn his favorite colors and his favorite season and if he prefers the sunrise or the sunset; you want to know what music he listens to and want to make him playlists that describe all the butterflies in your chest. You want to know why he makes you feel small, feel loved, feel  _beautiful._

"Yeah," he says, having to clear his throat to get the words out. "I mean, uh, if you want to."

"I do." You beam at him, hoping he'll smile back,  _I want him to smile back_ , and when he does, you feel your shoulders sag in relief. Feferi hums knowingly and takes you by the hand, giving the other two a wave before leaving. You wonder if he feels empty, too.

\----

Every part of you is on fire. Your hands are still trembling. Rufioh places a grounding hand on your shoulder, leans to you and whispers, "There are stars in your eyes, Tav. I'll make sure they stay there." He keeps his hand on your shoulder the entire time, and you manage to catch a glimpse of Aradia slipping upstairs, clinging tightly to Feferi as they whispered to one another. You wave shyly at Porrim when you see her, and she smiles fondly and waves back. "Don't be afraid to message me, Tavros darling. I'm always here to help." She calls, and your smiles widens. Rufioh is talking softly with Horuss, who had laced his fingers through your brother's free hand. It's soothing, and any nerves you had slipped away. The new calm follows you outside, when Horuss says, "I will arrive at your house after I return Meulin home. That is alright, isn't it?" 

"Of course it is, babe," Rufioh replies, easily leaning forward and pressing his lips to his boyfriend's in a quick kiss. "I'll keep the front door unlocked." Horuss gives you a pat on the shoulder before he leaves, waving fondly at Rufioh before being pounced on by Meulin. You and Rufioh laugh, and he adjusts his grip so his arm is fully around his shoulders. He jostles you as you walk to the car, and you're so relaxed by his presence you don't notice how frequently he looks up. You slip into the passenger seat, drawing your knees close to your chest. Rufioh clambers into the driver's seat, and easily pulls out of the Peixes's yard to head back down the drive. "Sorry it ended so abruptly," Rufioh begins, and you hum. 

"Thanks for taking me."

"I'm proud of you, you know. Hey, are you hungry? Wanna pick up something on our way home?" You nod, and reach up to adjust your seat belt. "Yeah? What do you want? Anything calling your name?"

"Chinese sounds good," you murmur, and Rufioh laughs. 

"Chinese it is, then. Dial the number for me?" It takes a bit of maneuvering to get your brother's phone, and he laughs as you fumble with the pocket of his letterman jacket, but it isn't mean. Your brother couldn't be mean even if he wanted to. Easily you dial the number and pass it back to him, and you let the sound of your brother chatting happily with whoever was on the other end of the line fade into the background. If you were honest you wanted to fall asleep, but you knew your brother was bothered silence and would grow restless if you fell asleep. So, you open up your sketchbook and flip to the drawing you had started at the party.

Instead of seeing the picture of Aradia, you're greeted with a bright pink sticky note. You trace the writing on it curiously, reveling in the pretty handwriting. There are cute doodles of cats and fish on it, too, so you know that it was Feferi and Nepeta's doing. You would have known even if she hadn't told you. It takes you several attempts to piece your way through her words, but when you do you let out a shocked little gasp. "What's up, Tav?" Rufioh asks, carefully slipping his into his pocket. 

"Feferi gave me Aradia's Pesterchum handle." You whisper, suddenly breathless. Rufioh whistles lowly, grinning widely. 

"Talk to her, Tav." You want to. You want to talk to her so bad it physically aches. After a glance over at you Rufioh sighs a little, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel before continuing. "Feferi and Nepeta wouldn't stop talking about your drawings, you know. And Feferi kept saying over and over how much she knew Aradia loved them, because Aradia only got that look when she was really overwhelmed. Your Megido doll loved those drawings, Tavros. And from the sound of it, she wants to get to know the artist behind them, too." 

"Okay," you whisper, and Rufioh leans over to adjust the radio. It's a sign that he's giving you space (you don't know if you want it, really, but the sentiment is nice and his words are still weighing heavily on your chest) and as he's doing that you breathe. It's rough, too sharp and too much all at once, but it gets better the more you take. After glancing at your brother to make sure that it was okay to, essentially, ignore him while you figured things out you pull out your phone, shifting to a more comfortable position before opening Pesterchum.

adiosToreador [AT] began pestering  apocalypseArisen [AA] 

AT: uHH, HEY ARADIA, 

AT:iT'S TAVROS, 

AT: fEFERI GAVE ME YOUR PESTERCHUM HANDLE, 

AT: pLEASE DON'T BE MAD AT HER, i CAN STOP MESSAGING YOU IF YOU WANT,

\----

"You gave him my Pesterchum handle?" It comes out angrier than you meant it, more shocked and betrayed than the excited trill you wanted it to be. Feferi doesn't seem to mind, giggling behind her hand as she leans a little closer to Nepeta (who, much to Feferi's surprise, eagerly curls up against the other girl). "Are you mad?" She asks, and you shake your head, shifting until you're leaning more comfortably on the headboard of Feferi's bed. "Well, now you can talk to him more! It was Nepeta's idea, anyway." Nepeta makes an offended noise and pounces on Feferi, giggling. You roll your eyes and shift as far away from the two wrestling girls as the bed permits, reopening Pesterchum to try and think of a suitable response.  _Probably should convince him that you're not mad. That would be a good start._

 apocalypseArisen [AA] began pestering  adiosToreador [AT] 

AA: hey tavros! 

AA: i'm totally not mad at feferi for giving you my pesterchum handle 

AA: to be honest i wanted to give it to you anyway!

 AT: wHAT ARE YOU UP TO

AA: well nepeta and feferi are wrestling and i am talking to you

AA: oh! we are watching a movie though

You pause to snap a quick picture, barely managing to get the image to focus before something (you assume it's Feferi's foot if her quick call of "sorry" is anything to go by) hits your side. Inhaling sharply you roll your eyes and playfully shove her back.

apocalypseArisen [AA]  has sent the file  indianajones<3<3<3.jpg

AA: sorry its so blurry feferi decided that now was the best time to ram her leg into my side

AT: aRE YOU OKAY?

Your heart flutters, and you bring your knees a little closer to your chest. Feferi and Nepeta have finally begun to settle down, laying on top of one another in a huffing heap. You smile fondly at them before returning your attention to Tavros. 

AA: i'm fine! it happens a lot actually

AA: feferi can be surprisingly rough

AT: bUT SHE SEEMS SO,,,GENTLE

AA: she can be

AA: but sometimes she gets tired of being nice and has to let off some steam

AA: she doesnt hit very hard though :D

AT: uHHH

AT: sO YOU'RE WATCHING INDIANA JONES?

AA: yes!

AA: indiana jones is amazing hes the reason i want to be an archeologist 

AT: yOU WANT TO BE AN ARCHEOLOGIST?

AA: yeah

AA: my mom met her first husband in egypt during a dig and her second at a conference 

AA: pretty sure the second is a mob boss so thats cool

AA: my mom is the real cool one though

AA: my sister is another story 

AT: uHHH, DAMARA, RIGHT?

AA: yeah

AA: because my mom is always away on digs damara basically does whatever she wants with the house

AA: it always smells like weed and she always brings boys home and the house is always trashed

AT: i'M SORRY, ARADIA }:(

AA: its okay sorry for venting

AT: nO IT'S OKAY I UH, 

AT: i UH, 

AT: rEALLY LIKE LEARNING ABOUT YOU

You must make the most embarrassing noise in the entire universe, dropping your phone in favor of burying your face into you hands and...you think you squealed a little. Feferi giggles, wriggling around until her head is resting comfortably on your thigh. "Having fun?" She asks sweetly, and you make another muffled noise.

"Tavros is quite the charmer," Nepeta declares, draping herself across Feferi. "He is pawssibly the sweetest boy in the whole purrld." There are another series of dings, and the two girls crowd around you. Eagerly you open it, wondering what he had said, and the moment you read his words your heart runs cold

AT: mY FAMILY IS KIND OF LIKE YOURS, mY DAD ISN'T AROUND A LOT, rUFIOH PRACTICALLY RAISED ME

AT: mY DAD TRAVELS AROUND THE WORLD FOR WORK, TOO, hE'S KIND OF LIKE STEVE IRWIN, tHE CROCODILE HUNTER

AT: rUFIOH HAS A DIFFERNT MOM THAN ME, sHE WAS MY DAD'S GIRLFRIEND IN COLLEGE, sHE'S MARRIED TO SOME NAVY OFFICER NOW

AT: hE STILL HAS PICTURES OF HER, i THINK HE STILL LOVES HER

AT: i THINK I WAS AN ACCIDENT

AT: rUFIOH SAYS THAT MY DAD GOT DRUNK AND SLEPT WITH A COWORKER 

AT: sHE TOOK HIM TO COURT, I THINK, AND NOW HE HAS CUSTODY OF ME

AT: i DON'T HATE HIM. THOUGH, eVEN IF IT WAS AN ACCIDENT, eVEN IF HE ISN'T AROUND A LOT

AT: hE'S THERE WHEN IT COUNTS, 

You stare, hands trembling. What do you say to that?  _I'm sorry? Wow, your life is so much more messy than mine?_

AA: its okay sorry your family is so messed up

AT: uH, THAT'S ALRIGHT, eVEN IF WE ARE A MESS WE'RE STILL FAMILY 

AT: i THINK YOU'D LIKE MY DAD

AT: hE'S A LOT LIKE RUFIOH

AA: well i think the person i like best is you

\---

You think your heart just stopped; you have died and gone to whatever the closest thing to heaven is. Rufioh glances over at you, a bit amused, before carefully pulling into a parking space. "Let her know you're going to be hung up for a little bit, okay?" You nod, taking a steadying breath. 

AT: hEY WE'RE GOING TO GET SOMETHING TO EAT,  SO I MIGHT NOT ANSWER FOR A BIT 

AT: iS THAT OKAY?

AA: yeah thats okay! enjoy your food tavros! talk to you soon?

AT: yEAH, TOTALLY

adiosToreador [AT] ceased pestering  apocalypseArisen [AA]

 Rufioh grins at you, reaching over to ruffle your hair. "I'm proud of you, Tavros."

"Thanks," you mumble, shifting nervously. "Are you going to hang out with Horuss when we get home?"

"Well, we have to watch a movie first. We haven't seen Peter Pan in a while, huh?" You laugh, because this has been a joke between the two of you since you were small. It was always Peter Pan with you, your go-to movie when things were too much and you just wanted something familiar. Something safe. Rufioh had learnt to humor you (not that it was hard--he always humored you) and offered the movie up whenever he was worried something was wrong and you weren't willing to share. It happened a lot after  _Her_ , and on days when your dad was supposed to come home but was delayed, resulting in a sleepless night for the both of you. Rufioh because he was consoling you, and you because your mind decided it was the perfect time to overthink  _everything_. "Have you ever seen Indiana Jones?" You ask, and your brother shakes his head and slings an arm around your shoulder.

"Have I, Rufioh Nitram, brother extraordinaire, movie coinsure, seen Indiana Jones? I have never felt the cold stab of betrayal as surely as I do in this moment." You laugh, hard, because you love him and his theatrics, squirming out from underneath his arm to enter the Chinese restaurant. His laugh fills the room, and several diners look over at him curiously. One of the waitresses saunters over, sideling up next to him, batting her eyelashes and cooing something that you don't catch. Your brother looks a little uncomfortable, but she doesn't seem to notice, speaking a little louder and stepping even closer. "Nitram?" 

"That's me," you stammer, and the waitress narrows her eyes at you like you offended her. Maybe you had. She probably hadn't noticed you. Rufioh takes the opportunity presented to him and slips away from her, walking over to the waiter who had called their name and taking the bags from him. You shift, uncomfortable, because the waitress still hasn't taken her eyes off of you. Rufioh saves you yet again, handing you one of the bags so his arm is free to sling over your shoulder. "See you, doll," he calls, voice wavering a bit. 

When you're both back in the safety of the car you turn to him, question burning a hole in your tongue. "You can ask me whatever you want, Tavros," Rufioh says gently, but he sounds tired, like he's aged a hundred years from the time it took him to pass you his bag of takeout and start the car. 

"Are you okay?" You whisper, playing with the handle of the plastic bags because you have to do something with your hands or you'll burst. You aren't sure why you're nervous, but you want to do this. For once in your life you want to be just as comforting, just as accommodating, as Rufioh has been for you. You envy him, envy the fact that he isn't afraid to cut his hands on the glass shards you become when you are pushed too far and crack under the pressure. And you're tired, so, so tired, of being useless; you do nothing for him but cause him worry and make him miss out on so many things because he's attending to your needs. For once in your life you want to put his needs first, force him to put his needs first. You'll be fine for ten minutes; you can take whatever is on his mind and hold onto it so he doesn't have to, even if it's only for a few minutes. 

Rufioh's grip on the steering wheel is tight, and he lets out a shaky exhale through his nose. "You know how I had a thing with the older Megido doll, right?" You don't. Not really, anyway. You know little bits and pieces. Just enough to know that she had hurt him; that whatever they had ended in the ugliest way possible. Sometimes you see him flinch when he sees someone with a cigarette; sometimes a dark haired girl looks just enough like her that he has to take a detour. You remember seeing bruises and shaking hands; you remember your father's reason for Rufioh dating Horuss (other than the fact that he loved him, of course; god did your brother love him). "Nitram men tend to have horrible taste in women, Tavros; we've always been better suited for men." 

"A little," you say after a moment, trying to keep your eyes on his face instead of his hands. "Aradia...Aradia says she's no good."

Rufioh snorts, and it isn't comforting. It makes your blood run cold. "She's right about that. According to that waitress, Damara works there now. The only reason we missed her was because she was on a smoke break." His voice is high, wound tight like a spring, and it makes you anxious. 

"Do you," it takes a moment to push past the lump in your throat, "do you want me to stop talking to Aradia?" It hurt. Just the thought of leaving her (even if you were nothing to her; she was everything to you) made your stomach knot. But if it made Rufioh uncomfortable, if it made him re-live the things that kept him up at night, then you would. No matter how much it hurt. Your brother was everything you had. 

"No!" Rufioh's volume startles you both, and your eyes dart to his hands. You wonder if he'll leave marks in the leather, if the action comforts him like it does for you. Maybe he's the reason you do it. "No, I don't. She makes you happy, Tavros. I can't take that from you. This...this will pass. It's my problem, and I'll deal with it."

"But," you try to interrupt, try to argue, because this can't be the only thing you can do,  _it can't be_.

"Thank you for listening," he continues like you had never spoken in the first place, taking a deep breath. "It means a lot to me. We'll figure this out, the both of us. Promise?"

"Promise," you whisper, and you wonder why it feels like such a lie. 

"Let's watch Peter Pan tonight, yeah?" Rufioh says weakly, and this time you don't laugh.

\---

 About half-way through  _Finding Nemo_ both Feferi and Nepeta fall asleep. The sight makes your heart melt, and you idly reach out to run your fingers through Feferi's curls. She's curled up against you, not quite on top of you, and she mumbles something in her sleep before curling even closer to you. Nepeta's back is pressed against your thigh, and her arms are wrapped around one of Feferi's legs, face pressed against the other girl's stomach. As much as you love this, love basking in their warmth and seeing them finally,  _finally_ quiet and soft you want to get up and go take a shower. The makeup had been washed off hours ago, but you still feel something that makes your skin crawl, makes you feel sticky and gross and you want to sit in the shower in water so hot that it burns. That, or sit under the cold spray until your fingers go numb. You're still undecided. 

Slowly you begin to untangle yourself from the others, stiffening when Feferi lets out a low whine at the loss of heat. It makes you smile a little, because she always said you were the best bed buddy because of how warm you were. You awkwardly reach over and trace constellations on the freckles you've long since memorized until she settles with a soft sigh. When you finally slip off the bed (and nearly fall on your face doing so; even after all these years you still aren't used to how ridiculously high her bed is) you make your way to Feferi's closet to grab something to change into. Your heart races when you reach it, because you still are so stupidly happy that Feferi dedicated a shelf of her (ungodly massive) closet to you, filled with some of your softest shirts and lacy panties and with a small box of beauty things just for you. It never ceased to amaze you how much Feferi loved you, how much she went out of her way to show you that she loved you; how she offered you a place to stay and be yourself when things became too much at home. Feferi, who made special dinner dates for you and your mother when she came home; Feferi, who had (intentionally or not) introduced you to someone who might...love you.

Wow. That was a scary thought.  _No, that's not the right word...it's not scary...it's...thrilling?_ You carefully open the closet door and grab the little box as well as the closest shirt. Deciding that it was just easier to leave it open you hold your prizes close to your chest and make your way to the bedroom door. After a successful exit (and a slightly less successful closing of the door) you make your way to the stairs. You preferred to shower down there, mostly because it was the safest place to shower if you wanted to avoid waking the Peixes clan. Meenah was especially irritable if woken at any time but her own, and Feferi could be moody if she wasn't immediately handed something with a name you could hardly pronounce, sickly sweet with a double shot of espresso. You had yet to see how their mother was in the morning, but if she was anything like her daughters you were glad you hadn't. You hesitate at the bottom of the stairs, pressing tightly against the wall when you hear two people shouting.

One of them is Meenah, you know that much. The other's words are too slurred and jumbled for you to pinpoint (if you even could). "Listen, buoy, if I catch your hands on her again I'll krill you." Your breath hitches, and you take a hesitant step forward to better hear the conversation. Part of you feels guilty for eavesdropping, but you hadn't heard Meenah this angry since someone made fun of her girlfriend. According to her she was "the only one who gets to call Aranea's stories boring."

 "I don't fucking care how she dresses. You so much as look at Araydia and I'll make you regret ever being born." You have to bite your lip to keep from gasping too loudly. Never in your life would you have thought Meenah would have defended you. Truthfully you thought she only tolerated you because of your relationship with Feferi. You hear a bit of grumbling, and a door slamming, and hesitantly make your way down the rest of the stairs. Meenah turns, anger melting away when she sees you standing there. You must look absolutely pitiful if her expression is anything to go by. "Hey, Araydia," she says, and she almost,  _almost_ , reminds you of Feferi in that moment with how soft her voice gets. They have the same expression when they pity someone, too, all furrowed brows and pouty lips. "Gonna take a shower?"

"Yeah," you say, when you finally find your voice. "Sorry."

Meenah shrugs, blowing her bangs out of her face. "Don't be. This is practically your fucking house now, ain't it?" You smile a bit at that, because even if her words are rough you know they're sincere. "Just don't stay up too late. Somebody's got to make princess her coffee." You really grin at that, and Meenah's smirk looks almost fond. She doesn't wait for you to move out of the stairway before climbing up, roughly brushing past you. "Meenah?"

"What?" 

"Thanks."

"What're you glubbin' on about, Araydia? I was just protectin' my sister." She cockily grins at you from over her shoulder, giving a little wave before heading upstairs. You're sure you looked like a complete idiot, standing there with your mouth wide open like a fish out of water. After a moment you shake yourself out of your stupor and make your way towards the bathroom. It's in a more secluded part of the house, and once you're there you sag against the door in relief. You love Feferi, and Nepeta is a sweetheart, but sometimes they can be a little much. Sometimes you just need a bit of space. You set your clothes on top of the sink and beginning rummaging through the box.

Feferi spoiled you rotten when it came to anything related to beauty. You were going to have to ask her for a larger box if she kept things up. At least four things in the box you had never seen before in your life, and at least half were high-end brands you had never even heard of before Feferi had expertly pronounced the foreign names that made your head spin and insist you try them out. You skim through the newest additions, finally settling on one with words you could actually sort-of read (you think one of the words is maroon, and another is definitely shampoo, but other than that you have no fucking clue). You take that and your usual conditioner and body wash (which Feferi had kindly replaced with a new bottle, already unwrapped) and place them on the shower's ledge. 

"Fucking finally," you say as you begin to step out of your clothes. They were cute, and for a while you loved having them on, but now you were grateful to finally be  _free._ No more curve hugging, figure flattering clothing for you for at least a month. Or at least, until Feferi won you over with her pouty lips and baby-doll eyes. God, you were so whipped for Feferi. You carefully fold and place each item in the laundry basket (it's become common place for your clothes to wind up mixed with the other's) and turn on the shower to its hottest setting, stepping in only when it burns against your fingers. 

For a moment you just stand there, hands pressed against the wall closest to the showerhead just in case your legs decided to give, because the moment you stepped in you felt  _weak._ You aren't sure why, either, but it hit you like a truck and you have to strain to remain upright with the force of it. You don't feel sad, or mad, just empty. No, empty is exactly right. Close but no cigar. Lonely is a much better fit. Which is odd, because Feferi and Nepeta are curled up on the bed upstairs and Meenah actually doesn't hate you and Tavros thin-- _oh_.  _That's why_.  _How can you miss someone you've only just met?_ The thought makes your stomach fill with butterflies. Nope. No way. You aren't in love with him. Not yet. You won't allow it. So what if he's impossibly endearing in that oversized jacket, or with bronze streaks on his tanned skin, or the way he hunches his shoulders in when he's embarrassed; not the way he trips over words or how he actually asked about your family or how he saw something beautiful enough to draw. Nope. You, Aradia Megido, are not allowed to be in love with him, because you refuse to go down that path again. Refuse to fall in love with someone who will never truly love you in return.

 _He loved you, though_ , a voice in the back of your head whispers,  _and you told him he could leave. Told him that maybe when the time was right. What does a middle school brat understand about time, anyway? You spoke to him like you knew the secrets of the universe, and the damn fool actually listened. What a joke._ You crank the water to the coldest setting, having to bite your lip to keep from yelping at the sudden change in temperature. You stand there for a long, long time, until your skin goes numb and the color of his Pesterchum text stops appearing whenever you shut your eyes too tight. 

\---

When you wake up you are alone. The room is silent save for the whir of the air conditioner and the hum of the TV as it replayed the menu to whatever movie was on. You weren't sure what it was. They probably changed it to something more suited to their tastes when you fell asleep. You think that was about half-way through  _Spirit_ , but then again you couldn't be sure. All you knew for certain was that you felt gross, felt sticky and hot and wanted to change. Your clothes stuck to your body in a way that made your skin crawl. 

Slowly you peel yourself from the couch, roughly shoving the blanket you assume Rufioh tucked around you off as you went. After successfully freeing yourself (and already feeling much, much better) you blindly reach for your phone. Surprisingly you find it almost immediately. You take a moment to check to see if you had any messages, pausing when you see a bunch from Kanaya. You attempt to rub some of the sleep from your eyes, because while there is no way you will sound as pretty as she does, at least you can make sure your spelling is correct.

 

grimAuxiliatrix [GA]  began pestering  adiosToreador [AT]

GA: Good Evening Tavros Or Perhaps I Should Say Good Night

GA: Porrim Informed Me Of Your Well Wishes I Am Quite Thankful For That

GA: But That Is Not The Reason I Messaged You However

GA: Along With Your Well Wishes Porrim Informed Me That You Finally Spoke To Aradia

GA: According To Her Report You Were Quite Starry Eyed

GA: She Also Told Me That You Were A Darling Boy And That You Handled Meenah Well

GA: I Am Very Proud Of You Tavros And I Do Hope That You Will Confirm Porrims Report With Me

GA: I Assume That You Are Currently Resting After This Incredible Feat So I Will Expect Your Response In The Morning

GA: Rest Well Tavros I Hope We Will Continue This Conversation At A Later Date

grimAuxiliatrix [GA] ceased pestering adiosToreador [AT]

From the light of your phone you can make out a smudge of bronze on your hand and wince. At least now you knew one of the reasons why you were so sticky. Deciding Kanaya can wait until you're at least somewhat clean (you hope you can settle for that, if not, you might actually call her) you set our phone back on the table and make your way to your room to grab some clean clothes. You hesitate a moment in front of Rufioh's room just to assure yourself that he was still there, that he hadn't left, hadn't run off with Horuss to live in a beautiful ranch house with a dozen (at least) horses, that he hadn't abandoned you. Not that you would blame him. After a moment you hear a low murmur and the sound of him snoring and relax, heading into your bedroom.

The first thing you do is turn on the lights, shutting the door quickly after so the light doesn't spill into the hallway. The light helps, and you force yourself to take a few steadying breaths. _It'll be alright, Tav. You'll be alright. You're in your bedroom. You love your bedroom._ You really did love your room, even if the ceiling is cracked and your bed is little more than a mattress on box springs. It's familiar and safe and  _yours_. The walls are covered with posters and your art supplies are tucked into one of the corners. You head to your closet and grab the first things you reach (a pair of shorts that you should have outgrown and a tank top that was probably Rufioh's once upon a time).

You make sure the light is off and the door is firmly shut when you leave, clothes tightly clutched to your chest. Truthfully you want a shower, but you're afraid of waking Rufioh. With all the shit you put him through the least you could do is let him get a full nights rest. He put up with your worries enough during the day; you could handle them at night. Slipping into the bathroom you sigh, leaning heavily against the door. You can feel a panic coming on, felt it in the shake of your legs and the rushed rise and fall of your chest. 

Setting your clothes on the sink you reach for a wash cloth and turn the sink to the coldest setting. It helps, it's easy to focus on the way it feels as you scrub at face until it's almost raw. You don't bother to dry your face when you finish, tossing the towel into the clothes basket, barely succeeding. You're rough with yourself as you change, nails nicking at your skin, but it helps, it helps ground you enough that you can make it through the night.  _Hopefully Kanaya will still be up._  

Your return to the living room is uneventful, and you curl up tightly against the arm of the couch, the blanket you previously discarded loosely draped around your legs. You're about to message Kanaya when another message comes in that makes your heart beat a tattoo against your ribcage.

apocalypseArisen [AA] began pestering adiosToreador [AT]

AA: tavros

AA: are you awake

AT: uH, HEY ARADIA

AT: iS EVERYTHING OKAY?

AA: i dont know 

AA: nepeta and feferi are asleep and everything is too quiet 

AA: i dont want to be alone right now

AT: hEY, IT'LL BE OKAY

AT: dO YOU,,,wANT ME TO CALL YOU?

AA: call?

AT: yEAH, pESTERCHUM HAS A CALL FEATURE

AT: hOLD ON

adiosToreador [AT] began calling  apocalypseArisen [AA]

She picks up on the first ring, letting out a breathy, "Tavros?"

"I'm here," you whisper, curling closer into the couch. "It's gonna be okay. Just breathe, okay?"

"Can't," she chokes, and this reminds you of panic attacks with Rufioh, of having to be taught how to breathe because you couldn't remember; reminds you of nausea and tense fingers because of how tightly you clung. 

"I'll teach you," you say, raising your voice a little. "Just listen to me, okay? Start with your nose, bring the air in," you pause as she does it, listening to her sharp inhale, "and let it out through your mouth. Try and do it slowly, okay? Like this." You do it, and wonder if your breath causes static like hers does for you. "That was good, Aradia, you're doing so good." She makes a choked noise, and the thought of her crying makes your heart ache. "It's okay, it's okay, you're still learning. It's, um, it's always difficult when you first start." Your confidence slips, but you try your best to push forward. "Let's try it again. In through your nose," you do it with her, and you're out of synch, but it's a start. "And out through your mouth." 

"Talk to me," she whispers, and it sounds like she's in a bathroom. You worry she's going to be sick. "Please."

"What about?" You ask, because you want to be polite, even if she's a mess, because she deserves it, deserves everything, deserves--

"You." She breathes, and you stop talking all together.

"Me?" You choke, and she lets out a weak hum. 

"Please."

\---

"Okay," he breathes, and his voice sounds shaky. You don't care. It's the most beautiful thing in the world right now. You're curled up in Feferi's bathroom, forehead pressed against the toilet seat because you're burning up. It's too hot, too much, your brain is going a mile a second and you can't keep up, you can't you _can't_ \--

"My name is Tavros Nitram. My zodiac sign is Taurus. Actually, all my family are. But, uh, that's beside the point. I like to draw, especially portraits. My favorite medium is probably pencils of any kind, but charcoal is fun too."  You love his voice; you like how it has gone all soft and low like he's speaking to a scared animal. It isn't too far off. You wonder if he's worried you'll bite. You hope not. "The thing with charcoal is that it gets really messy really quickly. I'm not good at dealing with messes. You think I would be with how much of a mess I am, right?" He laughs, and it sends shivers through your hypersensitive body. "My friend Kanaya has been helping me with becoming better with them. She's really nice. I think she's a vampire." He whispers the last bit like it's a secret, and you let out a noise at that. It doesn't sound as excited as you wanted it too, but you can hear him chuckle on the other end. "She's really pale, like you, and she stays up really late. Oh, and she burns easily! We went to the beach one year when we were younger, and even though she put on sunscreen she got sunburnt!" 

"Tell me about that trip," you whisper, adjusting yourself so you sat up a bit more. "Pretty please?"

"Of course," he says, and it's sweet, and endearing, and you make a little trilling noise because you're happy, you're stupidly happy, even though your stomach is still churning and your skin is on fire. "That was cute." You barely understand him with how much he stutters, but your heart leaps into your throat when you finally do and you have to make a conscious effort to remember how to breathe because he's making it so, so difficult. "You're doing well, Aradia; you're breathing so well." He coaches you through a few more breaths, waiting until they finally seem to settle again before continuing his story. "I think I was about...six? Maybe seven? Definitely elementary school. My dad had to go away for a really important business trip. He works with conservations to help save the animals and is a traveling veterinarian with a specialty in exotic species. He asked Nepeta's dad if they could watch over us, because a babysitter would be really expensive and we don't have any relatives nearby. Well, he agreed, and we went and spent a week with them. The last day we went over to Kanaya's mother's house. Well, she's actually her grandmother but since she raised Kanaya since birth she just calls her mother. Anyway. She took us all to the beach because it had been so hot that week. It was kind of crazy, because there were so many of us, but it was a lot of fun. I still have some of the shells I picked up while we were there."

You can practically see him smiling, the fondness in his voice making you feel warm, but in a completely different way. He hums softly, and you can hear him shifting. "Do you want me to tell you another story? Or do you want to tell me one?" 

"I don't have any stories," you say, the words finally coming easier. "Not about me, anyway." 

"Well, how about a fun fact?" He prompts, and you wonder how he would react if you said no. You don't want to say no, however. So you say the first thing that comes to mind that would be even remotely interesting. "I want to be a mortician. Or I guess I wanted to be. I'm still undecided."

"You could do both! Archaeologist by day and mortician by night." He sounds breathless, and you're in awe. Most people shied away when you told them that you wanted to be a mortician, that you were fascinated by Death and her process. That at one point in your life you almost preferred dead bodies to living ones. Almost. "Maybe," you say lightly, and he laughs. A real one, loud enough that it resonates through your bones. "I can see it," he says, and his voice has a dreamy lilt to it. "It'd make for a good picture."

"You think so?"

"I know so." He pauses for a moment, and you think you hear him yawn. "You could always be a fulltime goddess."

"Please," you snort, and he makes an offended sound. "Me? Goddess of what? Overeating?"

"Beauty," he replies immediately, not needing any prompting. "Of death. Of sheep. Of time. Of blood. It'd be ironic if you were the goddess of death and of blood; blood is basically the only reason we live, yeah?" The word ironic strikes a chord in you, and you find yourself agreeing.

"Alright. So I'm the goddess of death and blood. What are the uniform requirements?"

He laughs again, softer this time. "You already meet the requirements. But if you're into something more, uh, extravagant, I could show you a picture I drew. If you wanted to see it, I mean."

"Of course I do," you whisper. "I want to see it in person though, if that's alright?"

Yeah!" You can hear shifting on the other end, and you wonder if he wriggles around like Feferi does when he's happy. "Maybe I can show you Monday?"

"Monday? What's Monday?"

"We have school, remember?" He says gently, and you sigh.

"That means back to school shopping with Feferi tomorrow."

"Is that bad?" He asks, and he sounds so genuinely curious that your heart skips a beat.

"Not bad, just tiring. It's sweet of her to do; she's the only reason I have decent clothes to wear to school, honestly. She likes making me try things on."

"Do you not like trying things on?" 

"It's not my favorite thing in the world," you admit. "But Feferi being there really helps. She's quite the hypewoman. We have this tradition, too, that we each buy something in the other's style to wear. Feferi usually buys actual clothes, while I stick to accessories. I think someone would have a heart attack if they saw me in something pink." 

"I think you'd look cute in pink," Tavros says shyly, and you melt. "But you look good in black, too. Or everything, really."

"You look good too," you say, and he makes a flustered noise on the other end that sends you into a giggle fit. 

"If you wear pink on the first day, I'll wear it too. Um, I mean, maybe you wouldn't feel as weird if someone else wore it with you?" 

"We'll have to coordinate, then. How do you feel about fish shaped earrings?" Tavros laughs, and you feel something bubble inside you. "You have a nice laugh, Tavros."

"I like yours," he replies, and his voice is like caramel left out in the sun, warm and sticky and unbearably sweet. You could listen to it forever; you  _want_ to listen to it forever. Tavros fails to conceal a yawn, and it all comes crashing down that it's probably some ungodly hour and you're keeping him up. "You should go to bed."

"Huh? No way," he says, and he almost, almost sounds offended.

"Why not?"

"Because you're still up, silly." 

"I don't want to go to sleep."

"Why not?" He sounds concerned, and it makes your stomach do a pirouette of the fucking handle. 

"I want to keep talking to you." It's easy to say, as natural as breathing, and it doesn't feel like a lie. It  _isn't_ a lie. For a moment it's quiet, and all you can hear on the other end is the sound of him breathing and the occasional ruffling of fabric You aren't scared, though Not a single thing about Tavros makes you scared. When he speaks again his voice is hard to hear, muffled and breathy, and you love it. God, do you love it. "I want to talk to you too, Aradia, but you need sleep. You've got a big day tomorrow. It'll help if you're well rested." You want to tell him  _No, sleep does not help, I will still feel just as fat and just as ugly as I did the day before_ , but for some reason you don't believe that as strongly as you used to. If even a part of him is in your dreams, then you might just sleep easy. "Talk to me until I fall asleep?"

"Of course," he says, and you smile.

"Let me get comfortable; I'm not sure how well received it would be if I fell asleep on the bathroom floor." 

"Do you want me to keep talking? Or wait until you get comfortable?"

"Talk to me," you ask, and something in the back of your mind yells at your for being so demanding, but Tavros seems absolutely sunny when he says, "Of course!"

He continues to talk as you walk through the halls, telling you about how he would sit and wait for his brother after football practice, about how his brother and his boyfriend spent a good five minutes arguing about the benefits of being a centaur (and then another ten about being a  _robotic_ centaur), about the time he colored on the walls and his dad put up a frame and how it's still there even after all these years. You're almost asleep by the time you make your way upstairs and crawl back into bed. Feferi and Nepeta had taken over, sprawled across the majority of the bed, but there's just enough room for your to squeeze into one of the corners. You don't bother to hide your yawn, and Tavros makes a sleepy noise in response. "Comfy?" He asks, and you let out a mumbled response. 

"Bedtime story."

"Bedtime story?" He repeats, and there's something you can't place in his voice. "Alright, uh, let's see..." 

You're out before he even begins.

\---

About three minutes in to your (admittedly poor) rendition of  _Cinderella_ you realize Aradia had fallen asleep. You hang up with a soft "sweet dreams" and set your phone on the coffee table. It's almost four in the morning, and you had been talking to her for almost two hours. Not that you minded; you enjoyed every second of it. Even now you were filled with a bubbly sort of energy, not quite static but just as electric, just as all-consuming, and it made your head spin in the best possible way. You wanted to feel like this forever. You tug the blankets tighter around you and close your eyes and pray for a dreamless sleep. Instead your dreams are of the melodious sound of laughter and gentle breezes; of men made of crystals and their fairy-winged goddess. You dream of heat and sand and for once you feel safe, feel at ease. Everything is as natural as breathing, as natural as the sky being blue or grass being green. You don't feel awkward at all. It feels like you're actually there, a man made of crystal praying to a goddess with candy-colored horns and butterfly wings. 

And for the first time in a long, long time you don't want to wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here! I tried to include a lot of little references from the comic in this chapter! Thank you all very much reading, and I hope you stay tuned for the next update!


	3. Chapter 3

"Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey." You let out a groan at the Feferi's loud, slightly out of key singing. She gives a wet kiss on your forehead in retaliation. "Rise and shine, Araydia. Let's giddy up, buttercup." 

"I'm up," you whine, swatting your hands at her. She giggles playfully and climbs on top of you, forcing you to move your limbs to accommodate her. You still haven't opened your eyes, and she leans down to rub your noses together. Gagging, you reach up and drag your nails along her sides causing her to squeal. "You cheater." She cries, wriggling around on top of you. "Araydia!"

"Good morning," you sigh, lightly nudging at her hips until she slides down enough that you can sit. She continues to straddle your lap as you rub at your eyes and yawn, cooing over you. Feferi reaches up to run her fingers through your hair, tutting when they get caught. "You slept on it wet, you killifish. Now it's all tangled."

"I guess you'll just have to kelp me," you reply, and she chirps happily at your use of a pun. You're much softer in the morning, you think. More easily convinced and moved; easy to touch and easy to love. Although Feferi says you're always easy to love. She says you just have less of a filter in the mornings. You trace shapes into the skin on Feferi's hips and she beams, leaning down to press your foreheads together. "Cod, do I love you, Araydia." 

"Love you too," you whisper, and she presses a kiss to your forehead. 

"I didn't know we were having a cuddle party!" You both turn to see Nepeta standing in the doorway, grinning like the cat who caught the canary. "You guys are so cute!" 

"It isn't like that," you say, but your grip tightens on Feferi's hips instinctively. "It's...I don't think we know what it is, exactly. There hasn't really been a word for us."

"What do you mean?" Nepeta ask, tilting her head to the side. "Aren't you guys dating?"

"No," you say as Feferi attempts to get out "only on the weekends" between her giggles. In retaliation you drag your nails down her sides, causing her to roll off of you. She lays next to you for a few moments just laughing, the high, breathless kind she usually did early in the mornings when her body wasn't awake enough for her normal boisterous laughter. Nepeta looks amused, but still confused. "You aren't dating?" She asks again, and you nod. 

"Yeah, we aren't dating. We've just...always been this close, I guess. Comfortable with one another." Nepeta hums, nodding her head in understanding. 

"So you love her but you aren't in love with her, right?" She asks, bouncing up to the bed. 

"Yeah, I guess that's what it is." Nepeta gracelessly bounces on the bed, tossing her arms around you. Fondly you reach out and ruffle her hair, and she lets out a small mewl of approval. "That's pawsome, Aradia! I hope I can find someone who loves me as much Feferi loves you." 

"Of course you will, Nepeta; you steal everyone's hearts, after all." She gives a cute little yawn and nuzzles against your chest, so cat-like in nature you can't help but laugh. Feferi rolls over so she's nearly on top of you, too, resting her head on your shoulder. "Araydia," she coos, pressing her lips against your cheek. "I love you." 

"What do you want for breakfast, Feferi dearest," you reply, leaning over to press your lips to the crown of her head. 

"Those little egg omelet things you make! With the chives and the soy sauce. And I'll cut some fruit up and it'll be really nice!" Nepeta cheers, rolling off the bed. 

"Breakfast, breakfast." She chants, happily skipping out the door. Feferi quickly follows suit, chant and all, and you're left laying on the bed alone. You love them, god do you love them. There were still lingering feelings of anxiety from the night before, but with the weight of Tavros's words still on your chest and the promise of company throughout the day helps chase them away. Speaking of Tavros...

It takes you a moment to find your phone from where it had been moved throughout the night (somehow tucked underneath the pillow furthest from you). When you pull it up there are no new messages, but you can see how long your call had lasted last night. "Two hours?" You're shocked, and a bit embarrassed, and you're thoroughly horrified when you realize that that two hours was almost three. "Oh my god," you whisper, burying your face in your hands. "I am going to die. This is it--this is what kills me. I don't think I can ever face him again." You are not allowed to throw your corpse (which is currently burning not in the fiery pits of Hell, but in shame) a beautiful party because a shriek rises from the bottom floor and you know that if you don't head down there soon Feferi and Nepeta might somehow find a way to destroy the kitchen. No, scratch the might, they  _will_ destroy the kitchen. With a sigh you gracelessly roll out of bed and make your way downstairs.

You wonder if Tavros's morning has been as exciting as yours has. 

\---

"Are you sure it is alright to pick him up, Rufioh?"

"It should be fine--Tavros sleeps like the dead."

"Do not," you mumble weakly, sitting up to blearily rub at your eyes. Rufioh laughs and Horuss mumbles an apology. "'s okay. 'm up."

"Sleep well?" Rufioh asks, reaching over to ruffle your hair.

"Kinda; I called Aradia last night."

"Everything okay?" He sounds genuinely concerned, and it makes you stupidly happy as you lean into his hand.

"Yeah. I think, uh, I think she was having a panic attack. I sat up with her until she fell asleep." Rufioh whistles lowly, slowing his hand. You let out a little whine (you're still too asleep to feel embarrassed by it) and his hand picks up again. "I'm proud of you, Tavros," he says finally, giving your shoulder a firm squeeze before pulling away. You immediately miss the contact. "Make sure you check up on her today, okay?" 

"M'kay," you reply, curling back into the side of the couch, impossibly warm. You were horrible in the mornings (not necessarily ill-tempered, just hard to motivate) and your brother chuckles before turning to his boyfriend. "Well, we'll find something for breakfast and bring it home for you, alright?" You mumble something incoherent in return, reaching to pull the blankets tighter around you even though you're still warm from being praised. Yes, he does it often, but each and every time it makes you impossibly happy. God, are you easy to please. Rufioh laughs, hard, and even Horuss chuckles, shaking you out of your thoughts. "Man the fort for us."

"Will do," you murmur, rolling over so you can watch them leave. The two are holding hands, whispering to each other and bumping shoulders occasionally. It's so stupidly romantic you almost want to laugh, but you're a little envious of them, too. When the door shuts behind them you slowly sit up, rubbing harshly at your eyes. You really,  _really_ want to go back to bed, but you know you should check up on Aradia. You  _want_ to check up on Aradia. It takes a few tries to get your phone (primarily because you don't want to move from your new cocoon on the couch) but eventually you grab it and open Pesterchum.

adiosToreador [AT] began pestering apocalypseArisen [AA]

AT: uH, HEY ARADIA

AT: i JUST WANTED TO, UH, CHECK UP ON YOU

AT: tO MAKE SURE YOU WERE OKAY AND ALL

It takes a few moments to get any sort of response, but when you see the red text appear on the screen you immediately feel more awake.

AA: hi tavros!

AA: im doing much better this morning thanks to you!

AA: i really am sorry for keeping you up so late

AT: iT'S UH, NO PROBLEM

AT: i LIKED TAKING TO YOU

apocalypseArisen has sent the file  feferimademesendthis.jpg

AA: feferi said i should show you that I am good wife material by sending you a picture of our breakfast

AA: even though shes the one who made it look so pretty

AT: wOW }:O

AT: iT UH, LOOKS REALLY GOOD

AT: yOU MADE THAT?

AA: yeah!

AA: it isnt that hard really

AA: i mean i had to learn how to cook because all damara can make is pot brownies and instant ramen

AT: i UH, CAN'T REALLY COOK

AT: i GUESS i CAN MAKE PANCAKES 

AA: youll have to teach me sometime

AT: uH, YEAH, i'D LIKE THAT

AA: are you busy right now?

AA: by right now i mean like ten minutes give or take

AT: nO, NOT RIGHT NOW

AT: wHy? iS EVERYTHING OKAY?

AA: yeah! feferi just takes a really long time to get ready

AA: and I wanted to talk to you some more

AA: if thats okay?

AT: yEAH, tHAT UH, SOUNDS REALLY NICE

AA: nice! let me know when youre ready!

AT: uH, OKAY

apocalypseArisen [AA] ceased pestering adiosToreador [AT]

 

You gracelessly toss the blanket to the side as you stand. There isn't enough time to shower if you wanted to talk to her for a decent amount of time before Rufioh and Horuss came back, and you try your best to push that thought to the back of your mind. You'll be fine. Probably. Running your hands through your hair (thankfully not sticky with product) helps, and by the time you're in your bedroom you're more focused on what you'll wear than how it will feel against your body. If you were honest you just wanted to stay in your pajamas, but with school quickly approaching you knew Rufioh was going to take you out and you'd rather appear somewhat decent in public. So you grab your favorite jeans (worn, torn up at the knees because you "had a habit of tripping over nothing") and a loose-fitting button up. Your phone vibrates once, but you ignore it as you remove your shirt. It vibrates again, seeming more insistent, and you pick it up with a huff. You instantly become concerned, however, when you see that it's Horuss calling you.

"Horuss?" You say quickly, hating how high your voice gets.

"Nope, just me Tav." You can't help the sigh that escapes when you hear Rufioh's voice. "Don't worry, I'm just fine. Both of us are. I just wanted to know if you wanted Burger King or McDonalds." You laugh a little, and wince when it sounds watery.  _Gods, you're such a baby_. "Hey, c'mon, Tav. If you don't choose Horuss is going to take me to Whole Foods and we'll have to  _make_ breakfast."

"Sorry," you say, sniffling a bit. "Burger King has better hash browns."

"Hah! Told you, Horuss. Alright, we'll be home soon, yeah? We might still end up going to Whole Foods. We're a little low on actual food. That okay?"

"Yeah. That's okay."

"Oh, we're going out today, too! Back to school shopping and all that. Think about what you need, clothing wise. We'll get the rest of your school supplies  _after_ the first week, when everything goes on sale, because your brother is a huge cheapskate." You chuckle, moving to sit on the edge of your bed. "Do you need anything else while we're out and about?"

"Not that I can think off."

"Alrighty then. Sounds good. As Horuss's car is too nice to eat in, we will be eating at home and then taking off. That's as good a plan as I've got."

"It's a good plan," you agree, and Rufioh laughs before hanging up. Tossing your phone onto your bed you shimmy out of your shorts and into your jeans. Running your hands through your hair one last time you decide you're presentable enough. You make sure to grab your headphones before heading back to the living room and, once you're comfortably situated on the couch, message Aradia to let her know that you're ready.

\---

You're embarrassed to admit how anxious you are waiting for Tavros's message. When it finally comes you nearly squeal in delight, burying your face in your hands. Nepeta glances over at you from her spot next to Feferi at the vanity, smirking cattily at you as if she  _knows_ why you're so happy. You wouldn't doubt it if she did. "I'm going to step out for a minute," you announce, and Nepeta gives you an exaggerated wink. Feferi turns around to face you, looking concerned. "Are you okay?" You don't deserve her; you honestly, truly don't. Her concern makes you melt in more ways than one, and your shoulders sag from the weight of it. "Yeah; I'm gonna call Tavros while you two get ready. Is that alright?" 

"Oh, of course it's alright! Go, be free!" She giggles as she waves you off, and Nepta gives you a cheeky wave before turning back to Feferi. You breathe a sigh of relief.  _It wasn't that hard_ , you try to tell yourself, but your hands are trembling as you make your way off the bed and into the hallway. 

apocalypseArisen [AA] began calling adiosToreador [AT]

"Hey," Tavros says, voice heavy in a way that indicates he just woke up, and warm enough that you wanted to wrap it around you like a blanket and sleep forever. If a voice could kill then you would gladly die listening to his. "Good morning."

"Morning," you reply back, breathless. God, you had to get your act together. You can't just become Jell-O the moment he speaks every time he speaks. If you did, there's no way you'll make it. 

"You're going back to school shopping, right?" You hum in response, not trusting yourself to speak. "We're going, too! Maybe we could, um, meet up?"

"That'd be fun!" You wince at how loud you gets, but then he's laughing, warm and just as loud as you were. 

"I don't know how you can be so bubbly in the morning."

"Am I too loud?"

" _No_ ," you're surprised by the intensity of his voice, so much so that you shudder. "I like it. Uh, I mean, you're not loud. It's nice. God, sorry, I'm a mess, huh?"

"You're not a mess; you're Tavros." You insist, and he makes a noise on the other end. "And I like Tavros just fine." Another noise, one you know is embarrassment, comes from his end and you giggle into the phone. "So, when are you going?" It isn't the smoothest changing of subjects (your brain is still spinning at the sort of implications that could get out of your words, and even more at the fact that you wouldn't be upset with any of them) but Tavros doesn't seem to mind, jumping on the topic just as eagerly as you proposed it. 

"Whenever Rufioh and Horuss get back. And after we put the groceries away." He hesitates a moment like he wants to tell you more but is debating whether or not to actually say it. 

"Is it weird that I like putting groceries away?" You offer, hoping to spur him on.

"No." Another pause, and you hear him take a steadying breath. "I do, too. It's usually me who puts them away."

"Then you know where everything is! It's quite the perk when you're trying to keep your family from eating your stash of snacks for times when you're stressed." Tavros laughs a little, but it's a dulled version of the pure sunshine it had been before. You aren't sure how to fix it, so you keep talking, hoping you'll find a way to fix it. "My mom said my dad used to do the same thing, but with playing cards. He loved to play poker, and would always have a pack of cards on him. There would be dozens around the house, and every year on my birthday he'll send a pack with aces of diamonds and the 3 of hearts. The reasoning--according to him, at least--is that I'm his "diamond gal" and that the three looks a little like the symbol for Aries. It's sweet of him, regardless."

"He's the mob boss, right?" Tavros asked, and you frown, sliding against the wall until you land on the floor with a soft  _thump_. 

"Yeah; he isn't home a lot, but it's always nice when he is. Damara hates him because she thinks he plays favorites. I think she just doesn't like him because he's not her real dad, you know?"

"I think I understand." 

"Sorry, I'm rambling, huh?"

"I like it," he murmurs, and if you close your eyes tight enough you can picture his flushed face, the way his lip would be drawn between his teeth in silent determination. "Hearing you talk, I mean. You have a nice voice. And you're really interesting to talk to. Er, listen to in this case I guess. And I'm really excited to see you today because you're really pretty and I just? Feel comfortable around you I guess. Um, that's weird, huh? I'm sorry. I guess I'm rambling too."

Comfortable instantly translates to  _safe_ in your head, and it makes your heart beats against your chest so hard you're worried it will bust out like in that weird alien movie. He makes you feel safe, too, but you aren't sure how to explain this to him. You want to try, though, god do you want to try, because not even Feferi can chase the horrors out of your dreams. And he did it with a few gentle words, a hand offered in the dark when you didn't deserve it. You still don't think you deserve it.

He reminds you of Dave, so much so that it makes your entire being ache. You felt like this with him, too; felt the revival of your once-dead heart with his easy words and felt comfortable in our own skin when yours came into contact with his. The two of you were battered and bruised by a life that should not have been lived by two children. It feels like ages since you've spoken to him ( _You deserve it after what you did to him_ ) and you wonder if he feels it too. The dull ache in his core when someone reminds him of you. Does anyone even remind him of you? Sometimes you see him amongst the crows that flock on the street corners, holding out breadcrumbs and urging them closer; you see him in the grocery store trying to smuggle bottles of apple juice in the pocket of a hoodie that's too large on him and held together by a few strings. 

Tavros's quiet whispering of "Aradia" has you crashing back to Earth, taking a shuddering breath and hoping that you hadn't said anything that you would regret--that, or anything you would be forced to explain. "You've gone quiet. Is, um, is everything okay?"

"Yeah," you reply, praying your voice doesn't sound watery. "You just remind me of someone, is all."

"Oh." There's a pause on the other end of the line, and  _This is it, this is the final straw, he's going to stop putting up with your bullshit and drop you like he should've from the beginning. Everything is uglier up close. He was going to realize that applied to you, too_. "How do I remind you of him?"

It certainly wasn't the response you were expecting. Not in the slightest. You sniffle (and try to bury your embarrassment because of it) before whispering, "It's a long story."

"You don't have to tell me," he replies, and you hate him, just for an instant; you hate how he always sounds like he means what he says and hate how the pity in his voice doesn't make you want to throw up like everyone else's does. 

"I don't know how," you settle with, and he hums. "I want to. God, Tavros, I want to tell you  _everything_." You wanted to tell him every ugly thought, every bitter word, the story of the Ram and the Knight; the tales of a boy who was better with swords than people and who looked at the metallic stain blood left behind and laughed, because what else could he do? Of a boy no one believed, and the girl who did. The girl who tried to chase the bruises away with her own stubbornness, only to find that he was the one who chased away hers. Every pitiful, painful detail of the love story that could have been, but never was."Please, wait for me?"

\---

"I'll wait for you," you whisper, nails digging into your palm so harshly you worry they'll bleed. Aradia makes a choked noise on the other end, and your heart breaks. "I promise I'll wait for you." She sounds like she wants to say something, and she starts a few different sentences before settling on a shaky exhale instead. You wonder if you should coach her through her breathing again, but she hasn't asked and you don't want to make the assumption that she needs your help. You wanted to help her (Gods, you wanted to do  _every thing_ for her) but he knew, too, that sometimes people would rather die than have someone help them stand back up.  You weren't too sure where Aradia stood in that regard, but just because she asked for help once doesn't mean she would ask for it again. 

"Talk to me," she whispers, desperate. "About anything. Talk to me."

"Anything, huh?" You pause, taking a moment to school your voice into something neutral. "Well, I've been thinking about our outfit coordination."

"Have you?"

"Yep. I even talked to Kanaya about it." You could practically see her elegantly raised brow when you had asked her for fashion advice, and you had made her laugh (really laugh, the kind where you knew she was red faced and hiding her lips behind her hands even if no one was there to see them curl into a grin) at your outfit suggestions. "She said I had, and I quote, "quite an interesting taste in clothing"." Aradia giggles a little at the way you mimic Kanaya's voice. It feels odd, speaking in the elegant, perfectly enunciated way she tends to. "Oh, and I didn't even tell her about the accessories. I think she would have disowned me."

"Disown you?" Aradia repeats, and you close your eyes. If you close them tight enough you can picture her lips curling.

"Yeah," you say softly, idly fiddling with the blanket in your lap. "I'm not sure how she'd feel about fish shaped earrings."

"Tavros," Aradia begins, and you can hear voices coming from the other end. "Fuck. I've got to go. I'll see you soon, won't I?"

"Of course," you whisper, "of course you will. You couldn't pay me _not_ to come." 

"I'll message you where we are. Tell me when you go?" 

"Promise." 

There's a heavy pause before Aradia whispers, "thank you," and hangs up. "Bye," you murmur to the dial tone at the other end, before you hang up, too. You slide your headphones down to your neck and set your phone beside you before running your fingers through your hair, making a point of doing it just a bit too rough. Just enough to hurt; just enough to soothe the nausea curling in your stomach. Anxiety quickly takes its place, bubbling and burning holes inside of you didn't know how to close on your own. Distantly you hear the doorknob turn, and it makes your skin crawl. Quickly you slide your headphones back up over your ears and press against them, hard, nails scraping against the plastic. It isn't enough, you know it isn't, and your hands shake as you grab your phone. You quickly scroll through the various playlists before clicking on one that said "When You Are Overwhelmed And Normal Sounds Irk You".  Kanaya's naming, not yours.

"Tavros," her voice fills your ears and you sag in relief. "It seems you are feeling quite overwhelmed, yes? I would like you to take a deep breath. Inhale through your nose, then exhale through your mouth." Each word is slow and calculated; there is no other noise save for the her voice and her breathing, slow and even. "If you are feeling up to it, then I would encourage you to try and match mine. It is perfectly acceptable if you are not, however; go at your own pace." The next few minutes are filled with Kanaya's slow, even breathing. Occasionally she whispers a gentle encouragement or two, and your own breathing is beginning to become more even. "Tavros, don't forget to unclench your jaw. And roll your shoulders back a few times; it will help ease some of the tension." You do as she says, removing your hands from your headphones to rub some of the discomfort from your fingers. She continues to guide you into relaxing your body for a few more minutes before she begins to coach your breathing again. 

You've almost fallen back asleep when the door opens. Sleepily you look over to see Rufioh and Horuss enter, bickering quietly between themselves. Rufioh comes over to where you're curled up and sets a couple bags on the coffee table. "Morning, sunshine. You feeling alright?" He kneels beside you, reaching out to press his hand against your forehead.

 "I'm fine," you mumble, tumbling into Rufioh's extended arms. "Just tired." 

"Try and eat something, okay? Do you want me to make you some coffee? Tea? We got a couple smoothies. Do you want one of those?" You nod, and Rufioh ruffles your hair before pulling back and grabbing one of the bags. "We got a ton of hashbrowns. Like, enough to feed a small country." You chuckle, accepting the beverage pressed into your hands before leaning back into the couch. Rufioh runs his hand through your hair again, murmuring something encouraging as he stands. "Take what you want, okay? I'm going to help Horuss with the groceries." When you move to stand he shakes his head, easily guiding you back onto the couch. "You look rough, Tavros. We're gonna have a long day today; you're gonna want the extra cool-down time."

"Can we meet Aradia at the mall?" You blurt, becoming extremely flustered afterward. Rufioh doesn't laugh, which relaxes you greatly, taking a moment to consider your request. After a moment he ruffles your hair and says, "Of course we can, Tav. Just let me know when and where, okay?"

"Okay. Hey, Rufioh?" Your brother turns to look at you curiously. "I love you."

"I love you too, Tavros." He smiles, and you sink back into the couch, nails catching on the flimsy, saran-wrap-esque plastic around the cup. You fiddle with the straw, watching your brother and Horuss put the groceries away, talking softly among themselves. If you were honest, you weren't hungry, and the smoothie was sitting uncomfortably in your stomach, but you knew you had to eat. You didn't want to risk worrying him any further. So, with a resigned sigh, you reach into the brown paper bag and hope that whatever you settle on eating at least tastes alright.

It doesn't.

\---

"Araydia, what's the matter? Someone bursting your bubbles?" You startle a bit, smiling shakily in response to Feferi's sympathetic look. 

"I'm alright," you reply, and Feferi takes on of your hands in hers, soothingly rubbing it with her thumb.

"Well, if someone is, you tell me, alright? I'll krill 'em." Nepeta hummed in agreement, pressing against your side.

"That's right Aradia; we'll fight anypawdy that bothers you." You chuckle a little, reaching with your free hand to blindly search for Nepeta's. 

"Thank you." You take a steadying breath, unsure if you feel up to the challenge of discussing the thoughts raging through your head. "I called Tavros this morning."

"You did," Feferi encourages, shifting a bit so she can face you as best as she's able. "Did something happen?"

"He's too good for me." 

"No one's too good for you, Aradia," Nepeta replies, and Feferi shows her agreement by pressing a kiss to the top of your hand. "What makes you think that?"

"He reminds me...Reminds me of..."

"Oh, darling," Feferi coos, releasing your hand in favor of stroking your hair. "It's alright; Tavros would understand."

"You don't know that." You voice had gone dangerously soft, so close to breaking that it startled you. "He said he understood, too, but he doesn't talk to me anymore."  _Doesn't send me pictures of the crows that flock to the top of his apartment, or press mix-tapes with my name written on them in the most garish red Sharpie he could find into my hands, or tell me things he would never dare tell another living soul._ You try to bite back a sob, and Feferi delicately places her hands on your face, turning you towards her. "Listen to me, Araydia," she whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "It's okay to miss him. You loved him. I know you did." You flinch, even though you knew it had been obvious, knew with every fiber of your being that you loved him. Part of you still did. "We've talked about this, remember? Your heart might belong to more than one person, and that's okay. You can love Dave, and you can love Tavros. It'll all work out in the end. Trust me on this one, Araydia."  The sound of his name makes you whimper, and Feferi pulls you into her arms, shushing you gently. Nepeta, without hesitation, wraps herself around all the places Feferi can't reach, whispering comforting things into your shoulders as you grip her hand so tightly your knuckles go white. 

"I love him." You repeat, and Feferi hums. "I love  _them_."

"You do, and that's okay." She murmurs into your hair, and you cling even tighter to her.

"I love Tavros."

Suddenly you aren't ready to face him at all.

\---

Rufioh had opted to sit in the back seat with you, concern marring his features as he holds your hand. Idly he massages at your fingers, almost dwarfed compared to his, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat. "Is it ever hard being in love?" You ask, surprising even yourself. Rufioh doesn't seem visibly startled by your question, but with the way he begins chewing on his lip you know that he's trying to find the best way to approach this conversation.

"Your brother is a very easy man to love," Horuss says, and this time Rufioh does start. "He is kind, and considerate; he is the epitome of a gentleman. But sometimes I do find it difficult to love him. His kindness leads to him getting hurt, and even when I tell him to cease wearing his heart on his sleeve he continues to bare it with all the confidence in the world. He also tends to be pointlessly stubborn," this makes Rufioh laugh, and Horuss shoots him a look from over his shoulder. "But I wouldn't trade your brother for any other man in the world. Sometimes, yes, it is difficult to love him, but when the storms have passed I love him all the more."

"Babe," Rufioh murmurs, voice tight. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Horuss replies, smiling softly.

"Mine isn't as soul shattering as Horuss's," Rufioh begins slowly, "but I feel the same way. He's easy to love because I've seen who he is as a person. I know his flaws and I know his strengths and I love him all the more for it. You'll figure it out, Tav, promise." 

"If you say so," you mumble, leaning against him. Rufioh chuckles, letting go of your hand in order to sling his arm around your shoulders. "I really like her, Rufioh."

"Then tell her, Tavros. Did you know I had a crush on Horuss for almost two years?" You shake your head, and he takes that as a sign to continue. "It's true! The only reason we're together is because I finally got tired of thinking about him rejecting me all the time. You honestly don't know how people will react until you do something. Look at us now! Embarrassing you in front of your friends with our wanton acts of affection." As if to prove his point he blows a kiss at Horuss, who is blushing furiously. You lean against him, and he gives your shoulder a squeeze. "I convinced Horuss to stop at Walmart. And I may or not have convinced him to buy dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets. There's no need to thank me--I'm just doing what any good brother would do."

"Do you think we could make them using dinosaur-shaped cookie cutters?" You offer sleepily, and Rufioh looks like you had just told him the key to Nirvana. 

"My God, Tav, you just might be on to something. Horuss, looks like we're making browsing Target while Tavros meets up with Aradia." He pauses, glancing down at you. "If that's alright with you?" He says the last bit much softer, and you try and stile a yawn.

"Sounds like a plan," you mumble sleepily, and he laughs again.

"Just a plan, huh? We can work with that." 

\---

apocalypseArisen [AA] began pestering adiosToreador [AT]

AA: hey

AA: i think im ready to talk to you about some stuff

AA: i dont know if i can explain everything

AA: but i want to try

AA: if thats okay?

AT: yEAH!

AT: i'VE BEEN, UH, MEANING TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT SOME STUFF, TOO, 

AT: iS THAT OKAY?

AA: yeah! thats okay

AA: ill see you soon yeah?

AT: uM, YEAH,

AT: wE'RE ACTUALLY, UH, ALMOST THERE

AT: i THINK THEY'RE TRYING TO PARK AS CLOSE TO THE TARGET AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE

AA: 0o0

AA: i see

AA: theres a kids play place near the center

AA: its kind of by the target i think

AA: wanna meet there?

AT: yEAH! tALK TO YOU SOON ARADIA

AA: talk to you soon tavros

apocalypseArisen [AA] ceased pestering adiosToreador [AT]

As soon as you set your phone on your lap Feferi turns to face you, reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear. "What's up, buttercup?" She says, and you chuckle. 

"He has something to tell me, too." 

"Are you  _sure_ you don't want Feferi and I around? Someone has to take pictures of how pawsitively purrfect the two of you will look when you confess!" Nepeta says brightly, latching onto Feferi's arm. "Purrty please, Aradia?" Feferi looks at Nepeta for a moment, then back at you, sighing at your knowing look.

"Actually, Nepeta, I, um, have something to talk to you about." She says after a moment, making you grin.

"You do?" The other girl says, peering up at her. "Okay!" 

"I'm proud of you, Fef," you murmur, and she shoves at you playfully. 

"Oh, clam up."

"Look!" Nepeta squeals, pointing. You swallow thickly when you see just who exactly she's pointing at. Rufioh, Tavros, and Horuss are standing together, and from the looks of it they haven't seen the three of you yet. Nepeta untangles herself from Feferi and races towards them, calling, "Horuss!" Rufioh slings an arm around his brother's shoulder as they turn to look at her, and Horuss opens his arms for Nepeta. She latches onto him, laughing loudly, and Feferi nudges you. "We should join them," she urges, threading your fingers together.

"Okay," you murmur, letting her swing your hands back and forth. When you reach them you tuck yourself behind her, suddenly self-conscious. Nepeta is still wrapped around Horuss, and she waves giddily at the two of you. As she is coaxed down by a laughing Rufioh ("People are staring, doll,") you turn your attention to Tavros. He's watching the exchange with a small smile on his face, hands resting in the pockets of his jeans. You want to melt just looking at him. No human being has the right to be that attractive. (Without your consent your brain conjures an image of Dave, sunshine making a halo around his blonde hair, hands shoved awkwardly into his jean's pockets as he peers at you from behind his aviators). You shake your head, trying to focus on the task at hand. There will be a time to remember him (probably while crying your eyes out), and now is currently not that time. So you focus on Tavros, hoping you aren't as obvious as you think you are. 

_He looks good in red,_ you think, and you know part of it might be because red is one of your favorite colors. Regardless, he makes your heart flutter, and you lean closer to Feferi for support. She giggles, squeezing your hand. You love her all the more for it. Tavros turns a bit, and you wonder how someone can look so godly in the awful fluorescent lights you're standing under. He raises an eyebrow at you, and you hate that he only gets more attractive when his brows furrow in concern. Why can't his emotions mar his expression into something ugly, something more human, something you  _deserve?_  Now, staring at him,you think you don't deserve to even look at him, and you duck your head so you can stop staring. You miss the hurt look on his face, the way his fingers curl in silent determination and the way his shoulders rise with his shuddering breath. 

"Aradia?" You startle, head raising so fast it hurts, greeted with the sight of Tavros's raised hands, slightly sheepish smile tugging on his lips. "You okay?" 

"No."  _Fuck_. "Yes." He tilts his head, and his confused smile makes your heart stop. 

"No? Or yes? It's okay to not be okay, you know." It makes you pause, the insistence of, "I'm fine, really," dying on your lips. You stare up at him, unsure how willing you were to speak the truth. And not just bits and pieces, either. The whole messy, unforgiving, bloody and unabridged truth. Feferi nudges you once, murmuring something you don't quite catch before leaving your side to join the others. You feel so alone it's almost like a betrayal, although you know she wouldn't do that to you. Still, it sits heavy in your chest, and you dig your nails into your palms to try and stay centered. You're already floundering and you've said what, two, three words? There's no way you're going to survive this conversation. Not by a long shot. 

Tavros hesitates a moment, enough for you to see something flash in his eyes that makes you nervous, before he holds out his hand.

\---

Aradia stares at you, confused, eyes watery. It takes all the will-power you didn't know you had not to wrap your arms around her and hold her until whatever was making her like this disappeared. "Do you wanna, um, go find a table?"  _God, could you be a bigger idiot?_ She sniffles, slowly uncurling her fingers. Again she hesitates, hands resting nervously by her sides. You have to resist the urge to turn around when she starts moving her lips, repeating something that someone said to her once, twice,  _three_ times before shaking her head and uncertainly reaching for you hand. You keep your grip loose at first, only tightening it when she earnestly squeezes your hand. "Please," she murmurs, not elaborating. You don't need her too. Rufioh smiles and waves you off when you glance back at him, and you take a steadying breath before you take off.

She stands unnecessarily close to you, bumping against you with every step. It seems to comfort her, though, and you aren't at all bothered by it. After a few minutes the tugs your hand and you follow, letting her lead you to a a pair of faux-leather arm chairs surrounded by some of the most fake plants you had ever seen. Gently she tugs you towards one of the armchairs, settling into it  and pulling you down with her. It's a tight fit, but she doesn't seem to mind, pressing closer against you as you try and figure out where to start. 

"I'm sorry," she says first, startling you out of your thoughts.

"For what?" Aradia shrugs in response. "You don't have anything to be sorry for." She turns towards you, drawing her lip between her teeth. "I promise I won't be mad." 

"Swear on your life," she whispers, and her grip on your hand has gone painfully tight. 

"I swear on my life." For a moment she just stares at you, searching for any sort of lie. Satisfied, she sags against you. "Talk to me, please."

"There was a boy," she begins, then pauses. "There was a boy, and there is a boy."

"They aren't the same?" You ask, and she nods.

"Alike, but not the same." Aradia takes a steadying breath, and, in a moment of confidence, you begin to run your thumb along the side of her hand. She practically melts, eyes fluttering closed. "He reminds me of you. I...haven't thought about him in a long time. Out of guilt, mostly. Shame. Maybe a little bit of fear, too."

"Did you love him?" You ask before you can stop yourself. 

Aradia flinches, and before you can apologize she murmurs, "I did. I still do, to some degree. Feferi likes to say my heart is too big for my body--it's got enough love to hold at least three people, if not more. So I guess I love him, but I love the other boy, too. Does that make sense?" Expectantly she turns to you, and you don't know what to say. Instead you nod, and she frowns, just a little, enough to make your squeeze her hand desperately to try and apologize. "Maybe it doesn't. I know it doesn't really make sense to me. But...I want to try and make sense of it. Of everything. And I want to figure it out with you."

"I don't, um, I don't understand." 

"Tavros, I...I'm...fuck!" Aradia makes a frustrated noise, reaching up to roughly brush her bangs out of her face. "You make me feel things I've never felt before, okay? My heart races and my legs feel like Jell-O and I do a fucking pirouette off the handle in both my ability to talk and think. And your  _voice._ Listening to you makes me think that I've actually fucking died. I like how you make me feel okay when everything is anything but; you make me feel like my anxiety isn't a burden to you. Tavros, I'm in love with you." Her last words are whispered like a prayer and hit you like an arrow in the heart. Her nails are digging into your palm and you match her grip in equal measure, squeezing your eyes shut. You're so, so happy. "Tavros?"

\---

He sniffles, raising his head to look at you. "You're crying." 

"Huh?" Tavros tilts his head and you shake your head, letting out a watery giggle.  _When did I start crying?_ Slowly you reach up your free hand and at the tears on his cheeks. He flinches at first, but after a moment he leans into your touch. "Oh, um, sorry," he murmurs, and you laugh. He stares at you with wide eyes, looking at you like you're the entire universe, and you know that you've made the right decision to tell him. Whatever happens, you'll bask in this for as long as he'll let you. Tavros slowly untangles your fingers in favor of reaching up to brush some hair away from your face. He's thinking, you're sure of it--and you have never wanted to read minds more than you have in this moment. "I love you," he says finally, brushing his thumb against your cheek. "You make me feel things, too. Good things. Like, um, those really stereotypical butterflies in your chest. I want to spend time with you. And, um, draw pictures of you. And make you laugh. You have a really cute laugh. Um, and I like holding your hand. I want to do it more. I don't feel as nervous around you. Well, not the bad nervous. Is there even a good nervous?" He laughs. "I'm rambling, huh?"

"I love it," you say honestly, and his smile grows a little wider. "I love you." 

"This is going to sound dumb," he says, but you shush him gently, lightly pinching his cheek. "Can we, um, take it slow?"

"Take it slow?" You can't keep back a teasing smile. "Oh, I thought you were going to ravish me right here. Woo me in the mall parking lot." Tavros flushes, spluttering, and you laugh, throwing your arms around him. "I joking. Promise. We can go as slow as you want. Snail's pace." Slowly his arms wrap around you, and you don't mind the weight of them on your hips. You're too happy to feel ugly. "We look like that one vine," you say, giggling.

"What the fuck? Is this allowed?" 

"Stop." You try and say in the most serious voice you can manage. The two of you immediately start laughing, clinging to each other in a chair that's just a bit too small to fit the two of you. Tavros's swearing makes you shudder, because you didn't take him as the type, and you barely catch his whispering of, "I'm going to buy you an avocado for your birthday."

"Please do!" He laughs again, pulling back. "I'll get you some tortillas. We'll have a whole hurricane." 

"Is that, um, all you had to tell me?" You must look nervous, because he quickly adds, "Not to change the subject! I mean, I'm perfectly content to sit and quote vines with you!  I just, uh, want to make sure you're okay." 

"I'm okay."  _Dave can wait._ Right now, you want to curl up next to him, savoring what you have until you inevitably chase him away.

"People are staring." He doesn't sound like he minds, brushing your cheek idly.

"Let them," you say, emboldened. "I mean, how can they not? I'm sitting in a chair with the handsomest man on Earth." 

"You mean  _I_ , Aradia Megido, goddess reincarnate, am sitting in an arm chair getting stared at by passer-byes because I am literally the most beautiful thing to ever grace this Earth." You laugh so hard you snort, which only makes you laugh harder. Every part of you is on warm, and any part that's connected to Tavros feels like it’s on fire. He removes his hands from you and moves to stand. "Wanna go look at outfits?" A pause, lip drawn between his teeth. "You still, uh, want to coordinate, right?" You grin at him, holding out your hands, which he slowly takes.

"Lead the way!" You laugh as he helps you up, purposely stumbling a few steps so you land against his chest. He startles a bit, instinctively wrapping his arms around you to keep from falling. Tavros's grip tightens after a moment, and you can  _fee_ _l_ his laugh just as clearly as you hear it. After a moment you pull away, embarrassed, and the two of you stand there, shifting nervously. "So, um," you begin, chancing a glance at him. "You talked to Kanaya?"

"Yeah!" He grins, a little sheepish, and your heart swells until you're worried it will burst. "She said my fashion choices were, um, "interesting". I wonder what she means by that?" 

"What kind of crazy thing are you going to be putting me in?" You tease, falling into step beside him. It's easy, and so, so natural, like breathing or a heart beat. Comforting. Safe. He lets you swing your hands as you walk (a habit you picked up from Feferi), glancing down at you every once in a while with the happiest look on his face This, even if its simple and childish, is good, and you'll hold onto it as tightly and selfishly as you dare. "Did you make sure to include fish-shaped earrings into the equation?" He laughs, squeezing your hand.

"Yeah, I did. Several pairs. We're going to have so many fish-shaped earrings it's going to be like an, um, entire ocean." 

"An entire ocean? Feferi is going to be jealous." 

"Is she going to be able to pick something dark enough?" He asks, and you giggle.

"She always sends pictures--she likes a second opinion when she's coordinating. One time she called me at three in the morning to help her plan outfits because she had yet to pack for a trip and they were leaving that morning." Tavros winced sympathetically and you laugh. "That's not as crazy as the time she actually came and picked me up to help her pick out an outfit. It was eleven, maybe twelve in the morning? I wake to someone knocking on the door and open it only to see that Feferi is standing there looking like a hot mess. Apparently she really, really wanted to impress someone."

"Nepeta?" He offers, and you nudge him.

"I think so. She wouldn't say. Although, I don't think that will be a problem much longer." He regards you curiously for a moment, and you mime zipping your lips. "Ah, ah, not my secret to tell." 

"If you say so," he says, tugging on your hand lightly. "Can we go in here?" 

"Sure!" The store isn't really your usual scene if the curling logo in anything to go by. That, and the mannequins are decked out in fluffy cardigans and skinny jeans. "You really are pushing me out of my comfort zone, huh?"

"You don't have to wear anything you're not comfortable with." He says quickly, and you laugh.

"That's the goal, isn't it? To push me out of my comfort zone. I'll let you know if I get uncomfortable, okay?" Tavros frowns for a moment, searching for something in your expression, but it quickly turns to a smile when he finds whatever it is he's searching for. You lead him into the store, clinging just a little tighter at the overwhelming difference between you and the store. Tavros guides you through the pastels with an ease that makes you envious (although he looks a little unnerved too, if the stiffness of his shoulders and how tightly he grips your hand are any indicator). "How do you feel about overalls?"

"Overalls?" You look up to where he had gestured and laughed. "I've never worn them."

"You'd look cute in them." 

"I'll wear them if you do. And if I can wear a black shirt."

"Deal," he says, squeezing your hand. "Kanaya says to go up at least four from your jean size."

"Alright," you say, hoping you haven't made how uncomfortable you are discussing your sizes with him. 

"The men's stuff is one the other side of the store. Are you, um, okay here?"

"Yeah," you squeeze his hand extra tight. "I'll be okay. I think I can look for some overalls without setting the store on fire."  _Not having a mental breakdown, however, is a whole different story_. "Go, shoo. I'll be fine." He hesitates a moment before nodding, shaking his head and disappearing into the store. "Alright, Aradia, you can do this." You begin flipping through the racks, wondering what exactly he had in mind.  _Matching overalls would be cute_. You bury your face in your hands, letting an embarrassed noise slip out. God, already you're becoming the sappiest couple in the world. And you don't hate it. 

That's the most surprising part. When Feferi asks you to dress up with her in matching things (or at least, similar enough to tell that you coordinated) you get extremely nervous and refuse to do it. With Tavros, it's easy. You aren't nervous, or uncomfortable (at least, not uncomfortable enough to back out), so you think you can do this. Probably. After a moment you find a pair in your size, and find yourself...oddly relieved. They're pastel pink (Feferi would be  _drooling_ over them), torn up a bit at the knees, and with more pockets than you had ever seen on a piece of clothing. Ever. Carefully you take them off the rack and tuck them under your arm, scanning the store for the dressing rooms. 

This was always the worst part. You had an "irrational fear" of dressing rooms. Actually, it was more like you had an extreme hatred of your body and would avoid seeing it in mirrors at all costs. Dressing rooms were just little prisons with fun-house mirrors that distorted every part of you, even parts you liked, into things you hated. Your skin crawled just thinking about it. But you could do this. Tavros, Feferi, Nepeta...they all believed in you. And, well, if all those people believed in you, shouldn't that mean you should believe in yourself too?

With a new determination you head to the dressing rooms, overalls clutched tightly to your chest. A few of the patrons (namely the girls in faux-fur sweaters and jeans so tight you wonder how the move) give you weird looks, but you ignore them. The girl at the counter gives you a toothy smile, saying, "Just one, dearest?"

"Yeah," you mumble, and her grin gets impossibly wider.

"Those will cute on you. Name for the board?"

"Huh?" You tilt your head and she laughs, but it's warm and makes you feel a bit more at ease. 

"We put names on the chalkboards, see," she points to one that reads  _Calliope_ in beautiful, curving handwriting. "So we know who's in there. If it makes you uncomfortable, we can make one up for you." 

"No, um, it's fine," you reply, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. "It's Aradia."

"That's a pretty name," the woman says as she unlocks the door. "Well, Aradia, let me know if you need anything at all, okay?" You nod, and the woman pats your shoulder before returning to the counter. Slipping into the dressing room you jump a bit when the door slams ungracefully behind you.  _C'mon, Aradia, get your fucking act together. It's a dressing room. No one can hurt you here_ _._

If only it was that easy. 

\---

adiosToreador [AT] began pestering  apocalypseArisen [AA]

adiosToreador [AT] has sent the file  iTHINKILOOKDUMBINTHESEBUTALSOKINDOFLIKETHEM.jpg

AA: 0o0

AA: tavros! you look so cute!

AT: uH, THANKS

AT: yOU OKAY? yOU'VE, UH, BEEN IN THERE A WHILE

AA: yeah

AA: just a little unsure i guess

AT: i BET YOU LOOK GREAT

AT: i UH, I MEAN, YOU ALWAYS LOOK GREAT

AT: bUT UH, LIKE, EXTRA GREAT

AA: 0u0

AA: thanks tavros

AT: yOU'RE WELCOME!

AT: yOU CAN TAKE ME TO ANY STORE YOU WANT AFTER THIS

AT: aS UH, PAYBACK

AA: payback huh

AA: well see about that 

AT: uH-OH

apocalypseArisen [AA] ceased pestering adiosToreador [AT]

 

You stare at your phone, anxiety bubbling in your stomach. It's almost to the point where, under normal circumstances, you would call Rufioh and have him come get you. But you want to do this, damn it. You are fifteen years old and you are perfectly capable of waiting for your friend (girlfriend?) to come out of the dressing room without having a panic attack. Other people can do it. Why the fuck can't you? You regret the fact that you didn't bring a sketchbook. The faux-furs had given you ideas in the form of 1920s  beauty queens with heels so high that they were a risk to the health of their wearer and furs elegantly draped across their shoulders. All the perfume in the air was suffocating, and you could almost picture a bar scene (although you were certain the smells were worlds apart), women with wineglasses raised high and men on their arms talking about horse racing or diamonds or whatever it was that rich people talked about. You aren't really sure. 

The conversation with Aradia, too, had brought some ideas. A dapper looking man, dressed well-enough to rival the devil himself, smudged at the edges like a faded photograph. Face made of harsh shadows and crisp lines and a cigar perched delicately between his lips like an angel had placed it there. At his side was a woman, round where he was straight; soft where he was rough. Her hair would be a mess of curls, ace of diamonds slotting perfectly between her fingers. Red. Lot's of red. Diamonds on his lapel and the King of Diamonds instead of a pocket square. And there would be a crow, too, perched on the woman's shoulder. You weren't sure why it had to be a crow, (you'd look up it's meaning later) but it seemed right. You wonder if you should include Aradia's mother, too, though you don't know much about her, and you're a little nervous to ask. Someday, though. Her sister was out of the question. Maybe a ram skull as a bit of irony, but nothing more, no other indication that there was anyone else in the family. A memorial to a goddess who had fallen in love with a human, only to have that love destroy her.

You're probably looking to deep into it. Besides, who would want a portrait of their family when they don't even like them? You know that when you draw "family" portraits it's always Rufioh and Horuss arm in arm, smiling widely at one another; Kanaya would be perched somewhere looking delicate and graceful, smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she watched the scene. There a few sketches that you won't show anyone, not even Rufioh, of pictures you had done of before you were born, when your brother was young and your father was home. Hell, when your father was  _happy_. There was another girl in the pictures, too, slightly older than Rufioh, and who looked so familiar you could almost taste her name on the tip of your tongue. She made you a little nervous, too, but you couldn't place that, either. All you knew is that, sometimes, you wondered if they ever wished they could go back to that. A picture perfect family, white picket fence and all. 

 It makes your stomach lurch, and before you can get even further lost in your head your phone vibrates. You glance down, swallowing thickly when you see who the message is from.

apocalypseArisen [AA] began pestering adiosToreador [AT]

apocalypseArisen [AA] has sent the file imnotdeadyetipromise.jpg

With shaking hands you open the file, eyes widening when you see what it holds. The picture was slightly blurry, as if Aradia's hands had been trembling when she took it (maybe they were; yours had been). She's smiling, but it looks a little watery, a stripe of pink on her lips where the burgundy of her lipstick had faded. And the  _overalls_. God, you though that what she was wearing at the party had been beautiful on her (and it was, god, it was) but this took the cake. It was so different from what she normally wore, and it seemed to soften her, like a drawing that hadn't been erased properly. The outline was still visible, but distorted and fuzzy. You're drawn out of your thoughts by a door opening and closing and your head shoots up to see Aradia, overalls tossed over her arm as she slowly shuts the door to the dressing room. When she turns and sees you she startles a bit, and you note that her lips are all one color now. Her eyes seem a little red, too, and you feel your heart melt. "Hi," she says after a moment, having to clear her throat twice to get the words out. 

"Hey," you say back, fingers curling. "You, um, looked really good in those. Are you, um, gonna get them?" 

"Yeah," she says, and her expression brightens a bit. "And you?"

"We've got to match, don't we?" You say, and when she smiles you feel just a bit more at ease. It's not the full story, you're sure, but it's not your place to ask and if she wants to tell you, well, then she will. 

"Tavros?" You turn, humming softly to let her know you're listening. For a moment Aradia says nothing, just looks at you, and then she smiles. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"Oh, nothing important. C'mon, let's go pay and meet up with the others. You haven't  _lived_ until you've seen the Hot Topic employees' reactions to Feferi." Aradia holds out her hand, and you take it without hesitation. Yes, you're both new at this, and a small voice in the back of your head is already telling you that you fucked up, but you could care less. Because right now the prettiest girl in the world is smiling at you and holding your hand so tightly it could break if she wasn't careful. Because right now you felt warm and safe and more at ease than you ever had. 

All because of Aradia Megido.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOSH THIS TOOK FOREVER!! I AM SO SORRY! It's a bit of a shorter compared to the other two (still within the 10,000-12,000 self-imposed word range) but I felt like it would have dragged on more than needed if I kept it going. In other news I also may or may not be projecting onto Aradia little bit. Just a little. And, on a different note, there should be a one-shot coming out for Feferi and Nepeta, if any of you were curious about their little conversation. Thank you all so much for reading! I'll see you all soon in the next chapter.


End file.
